Candid Feelings
by vinbunny
Summary: Naomasa Tsukauchi and Yagi Toshinori. No set story, just some thoughts and ideas I had for these two. How they met, variations of first kisses and confessions, maybe some pining and angst. Any Chapter NSFW will be marked spice. [No update schedule set] Naomight!
1. The Bond of Friendship is Forever

The Bond of Friendship... Forever.

* * *

"You! Yeah, the very blonde boy!" A young child of five or six runs away from his mother's grasp, her eyes rolling as she sits down on a nearby bench to supervise. "Your shirt, look! It's just like mine."

The enthusiastic child stretches out his shirt for the other kid to see, printed image of Japan's number one hero, Positive, posing in triumph. The blonde stops his absent swinging so he doesn't knock him over.

"I'm Naomasa Tsukauchi! You like heroes too?" He beams up at the mystery boy in anticipation.

"Oh, yes, I do... Yagi Toshinori." Yagi is older than this strange child that seemed to be fixated on him, being in his early teens. Didn't he have any friends his age to play with? Looking around the small neighborhood park, Yagi realizes that there are no other children around. He feels uneasy at the age difference, but it doesn't deter young Naomasa.

"Yagi-chan, are you going to be a hero when you grow up?" Yagi blinks. _Chan_? This kid was quite rude for being so friendly. The question soured his mood too, though it wasn't actually Naomasa's fault. It was an innocent question.

"I can't really... I'm what they call quirkless." His confession is hushed and practiced. Yagi lowers his eyes, preparing himself for sound of disgust, maybe even laughter. Who knows, kids could be cruel. What he got was silence, only the sound of the wind picking up around them. Glancing back to Naomasa, he only sees a determined smile dancing on his face.

"A policeman then! That's what I want to be." Did nothing faze him, even a painfully normal boy in an era where the odds of that was becoming less and less? "My mom says my quirk is useless for fighting. So I'll arrest the bad guys when the heroes catch them!" Naomasa punches the air for emphasis.

"What _is_ your quirk?"

Naomasa's eyes twinkle at the chance to show it off. His own family had strict rules about him using his quirk in the house, annoyingly thorough on the boundaries of their privacy. Holding his hands out, he waited for Yagi to react.

"U-um..?" Running out of patience Naomasa takes the other boy's hands into his.

"Tell me something. A lie." The kid's smile is dazzling, and a quick peek to where his mother is sitting reveals she obviously knows what he's doing. Yagi can see her head shaking, shoulders giving him an exaggerated shrug.

"I-I-live in space?" He couldn't really think of anything when put on the spot like that, and Naomasa didn't specify it had to be a _good_ one.

"Yup, you're lying." His head bobbed up and down in all seriousness, quite proud of his reveal. Yagi tried to hold back a laugh, but this kid was just so silly.

"That was pretty obvious." His chest shook and he winded himself. It had been a long time since he laughed like this. It was nice to have someone's kindness, even if it came from a very strange child.

"You should probably find your friends." Naomasa stared, his constant smile finally fading for a moment.

"Are you going to play with your own friends now?"

"Y-yeah, something like that." Most people were polite, but Yagi didn't have anyone who wanted to be seen around with someone who was quirkless. Naomasa frowned, his hands squeezing around Yagi's, who had already forgotten the boy was still holding them.

"You're lying." The older boy jumped in surprise at how sure Naomasa was. So his lie detection quirk was real after all. "If you don't have any... would you like to be my friend?"

His fingers trembled when he asked the question, almost as if he was afraid Yagi would reject him.

" _I would love to be your friend."_

 _~.~_

Toshinori woke up from his nap on the couch, having fallen asleep at Tsukauchi's place. His neighbors made too much food again, giving it to the detective who never had the time to cook for himself. It happened far too often to be accidental, the young woman next door making it a habit to look quite nice when she brought over multiple plates of 'extras'.

Of course, Tsukauchi never paid this detail any mind. Honestly, he was quite dense when it came to romance, and so each time he invited Toshinori over to help eat the overly large portions.

Still focused on his dream of the past, he chuckled at the fond memory. It was really too bad they never met again after that day.

"Toshinori? I set the table." Tsukauchi's head pops out of the kitchen. He always insisted on eating at the tiny table wedged in the only free corner. Everything would start to pile up if he slacked, or at least that's what his friend told him when Toshinori asked one day.

The tall man pushed himself from the couch and followed, inhaling the scent of stir-fried vegetables and meat piled on top of freshly made rice. Tonight's dinner looked amazing. Toshinori sat down with a smile, still thinking about tiny Naomasa.

"Tsu, do you remember when we first met?" Tsukauchi tilts his head in thought, hand frozen in midair where he stopped mid-bite. Toshinori chuckles at the sight.

"You're talking about when I graduated from the police academy, right?" All Might had shown up to the ceremony to congratulate all the new officers, shaking all their hands and welcoming them to their noble profession.

Toshinori recognized him right away as the same Naomasa, the smile on his face hadn't changed at all. The fact he followed his dream so successfully made him happy. But of course, Naomasa wouldn't know that the quirkless teen he befriended was now the number one hero All Might. Some careful questioning later would reveal that Tsukauchi hardly remembered the day in question at all.

"Why do you ask?" He took a bite and waited patiently for an answer.

"Hm... I was just thinking you haven't aged at all. Your smile could be dated back to your childhood." Tsukauchi choked, cheeks dusting a light pink.

"You're teasing me too much." It was probably a good thing Tsu was so oblivious. Despite his modest looks, he had quite a few admirers and Toshinori was a bit too selfish to share his best friend's shy side. The comment still brought a smile to his face, one that Toshinori would always cherish.

"Sorry, my friend. It was too easy."

* * *

I am head over heels in love with Naomasa Tsukauchi's character.  
I don't know why, or when exactly it hit me. But he's cute and I desperately need more content.  
Hopefully more people can come to like him!


	2. White Lies, Part 1

White Lies, part 1.

* * *

As far as anyone knew, for detective Tsukauchi's quirk to be effective he had to take hold of your hands. After all, that was the only way they saw him do it in the interrogation room.

What Naomasa would never tell his colleagues is that all it took was a touch. As long as some part of him was touching, (and the clothing thin enough) he could feel the static that would result from a lie. He didn't want them to be bothered about privacy – Tsukauchi was an honest man, it came with the territory – and he would never purposefully pry into someone's life.

His own family treated him carefully because of it, though they would never admit it aloud. And because he didn't want to lose their comfort and ease around him, Tsukauchi never bothered to tell anyone otherwise.

The first time it mattered was when All Might came in with yet another villain to be arrested.

"Thank you again, All Might." Young, up-and-coming policeman Tsukauchi rested a hand on the hero's arm to emphasize his gratitude. "This is the fourth arrest this week." He smiles, and one of his coworkers jokes around with the large man.

"Ahh, when're you going to tell us the secret to your strength?" The officer who says it has an eye enhancing quirk – useful in the force but not quite enough to be a pro hero. All Might lets out one of his signature laughs.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing interesting to tell."

The feeling of numbness and static traveled up Naomasa's arm in an instant, causing him to jerk back in surprise. A lie. The world's number one hero was lying about his quirk. He was weary after that, noting that All Might was an excellent liar. Always brushing off the specificities of his quirk, and never talking about his past. It was not a trait Naomasa found desirable.

And yet, everyone loved him.

Sincere. Friendly. One of the few heroes that openly praised the police force. It's not as if Tsukauchi was rude to the man – in fact, he made sure to be as professional and courteous as one could possibly be. Every interaction was strictly about work, and then he would be on his way. Unfortunately, that proved to be a problem for the golden hero. Every time he turned in a villain, All Might would ask for Officer Tsukauchi. A disappointed 'oh' would meet anyone else who took his shift when he had the day off. Eventually he would only stick around if Naomasa was the one to receive him.

"Hello again, Tsukauchi-kun! Today we have an attempted bank robber." His signature grin was rivaled by the officer's customer service smile.

"Thank you again for your continued service, All Might. I will take care of the paperwork."

Weeks of this tense banter passed by, and Naomasa didn't budge an inch. Everyone at the precinct was aware of the one-sided crush All Might had, and they all theorized wildly on why Tsukauchi was so dead set on hating him. It would have continued forever, too, until the precinct held a charity ball.


	3. White Lies, Part 2

White Lies, part 2.

* * *

"You signed me up for what?"

Officer Tsukauchi stares blankly at Tamakawa, but the man is one of the few officers that could keep a straight face under any sort of pressure.

"The charity. Everyone was pawsitive that you would pull in donations."

Naomasa laughs. Him? Honestly, he shouldn't be surprised anymore at the things his coworkers tried to pull. There were far more qualified officers that could volunteer. If he remembered right, there were already six names on the list; him being number seven wouldn't amount to much. Sansa nods as if was expecting this reaction.

"I believe the precinct is confident in your ability to deal with any potential donor, so please consider it." If it were anyone else asking, Naomasa would say no. But officer Tamakawa is sincere, and it was only for one night. With a sigh, he agrees.

"Purrfect. I will tell the others."

The night of the charity ball, all the volunteers are dressed in their formal uniforms. The venue is filled with prominent donors, and as per the agenda each volunteer flitters to the donors, ready to charm their way into deep pockets. Politicians, businesses, and a few independents that are just looking for a charity.

Naomasa isn't as good at small talk as his coworkers would think – he stumbles over his introduction a few times, and of course he can't expect to compete with the other volunteers. The night is tiring for the officer, and it only gets worse when who would part from the crowd but one of the biggest independent donors; All Might.

"Officer Tsukauchi. You are one of the volunteers?" The blonde hero looks surprised, and while Naomasa does agree with how mismatched his role is, All Might pointing it out so loudly was embarrassing. Instantly, the man shakes his head as if he was just now realizing how rude the comment was.

"I didn't mean it that way. It's just surprising, since I can't imagine you liking this kind of thing." Tsukauchi sighs, because it seems once again All Might is backtracking to cover his mistake, trying to get on his good side.

"I see. Well if that's all you needed, I'll be going."

"Wait–" A large hand stops the younger man's attempts to leave, pulling him back by the arm. "For some reason I get the feeling you don't like me very much. Why is that?"

Naomasa bristles at the unwanted contact, turning sharply and dropping his conversational smile. Yes, this was technically on the clock, but there were other donors besides All Might. And frankly, he was tired of dealing with him.

"No, I don't like you. You're an effective hero, but everything about you is one big lie. Your quirk, for example." All Might shifts, his grip getting uncomfortably tight. He speaks in hushed tones as if he doesn't want anyone else to hear.

"My quirk is perfectly normal, thank you."

Once the words come out, even through multiple layers of fabric, Naomasa can feel the unpleasant buzz of a lie. That's never happened before. He sucks in a quick breath, tearing his arm away from the hero. Luckily they haven't made a scene yet, the other guests still chatting away happily.

Before any more words can be exchanged, the announcer calls for all the volunteers to make their way to the stage. Officer Tsukauchi takes his place next to the six other 'members', feeling self conscious. Despite the large group of coworkers giving him thumbs up in the crowd, it was clear this charity is basically a popularity contest.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, you had your time to meet our lovely volunteers. It's now time for the auction!"

Naomasa shifts uncomfortably, regretting that he agreed to this. Why this was popular, he would never know – a 'date' for the night to the highest bidder. It was usually the attractive officers that got picked; it was easier to get a bidding war that way.

Not really paying attention to the excitement, Naomasa almost misses his turn. With a deep breath, he stands in the middle of the stage and smiles shyly. It would be over soon, he thought, and that's all that mattered.

Oh, how wrong he was.

"Let's start the bid for–"

"20,000 yen!" Poor Officer Tsukauchi freezes when he recognizes the voice. Everyone turns their heads to a single, recognizable man. All Might. Terrified eyes lock onto his usual circle of work friends, quickly noting how red their faces were, trying to hold back laughter.

They did this on purpose.

"30,000 yen." It's Officer Tamakawa's voice this time, and Naomasa can see him counting out money from a large stack.

"40,000 yen!" It's just been yelling so far, and the announcer is so shocked he can't even prod for other buyers.

"50,000 yen." Sansa catches All Might's eye, flipping through the stack of bills that everyone so clearly pooled together. Everyone watches in fascination as the hero stands up, slamming his hand down on the table in front of him.

"500,000 yen!" All Might grins toward Sansa, who only shrugs. Every single pair of eyes in the audience is staring at a very, very red Officer Tsukauchi.

"W-well then, if there are no more bids... the winner of the date with Tsukauchi Naomasa is none other than the g-golden hero, All Might." The entire charity is ablaze with gossip. When Naomasa climbs down the stage, he shakes All Might's hand with the most dazzling smile he has in his arsenal.

"Thank you for continuing to support the police force, if you could just tell me what day you require my–" Nao suddenly finds himself being pushed toward one of the private tables.

"Tsukauchi, my friend. I was thinking right now." He doesn't look very amused, despite the grin plastered on his face. Out of earshot of everyone in the room, All Might folds his hands together.

"What exactly do you know about All For One?"


	4. White Lies, Part 3

White Lies, part 3.

* * *

Officer Tsukauchi balks at All Might's sudden shift in tone. Out of the corner of the hero's eye, he can see there are a lot of people who have taken interest in their conversation; but even for those with hearing enhanced quirks, they're sitting too far away to be bothered. Toshinori made sure of that in choosing their table.

All For One? The English sounds awkward as Tsukauchi tries to sound it out, as if he's never heard those words in that order before. That can't be right. Toshinori had been panicking ever since the officer said something about his quirk – and all he really knew about Tsukauchi was he could detect lies. Nobody ever said how accurate or prying the ability was.

It was time to reassess. The man didn't seem to know about AfO, but maybe it was because All Might's conversations didn't exactly steer in that direction. Rifling back in his memories, the only constant was the questioning about his quirk. Everyone asked; well, not Tsukauchi, but he didn't talk to All Might when he could help it. But the media, and other officers...

The faint smile he was somehow still holding falls.

"Look, All Might. I have to apolo-" Tsukauchi is trying to salvage what little pleasantries they have between them, but Toshinori isn't concerned about that right now.

"Do you know about Nana?" The question is too quiet, and it catches Tsukauchi off guard. Nana – the inflection in his voice sounds almost desperate even to him. Did he know, or didn't he? All Might was so guarded about that memory, but he never thought what might happen when faced with a quirk user that might be able to see it. It wasn't a pleasant thought, sharing her with someone other than Gran Torino. And worse, what would he do with that information?

"I don't know anything." The younger man's hand reaches out to grab Toshinori's arm, holding him fast as if he was afraid the hero would run away.

"I only knew you were lying about your quirk. Nothing else, I promise you. I don't know why this is so important, but I won't breathe a word about this to anyone..." Officer Tsukauchi shakes his head, trying to explain himself. "It was just unsettling. I know people have their reasons to lie, but you are All Might of all people... and I can't imagine what you would lie about."

"Unless your quirk had to do with taking power from others, maybe I could understand. People wouldn't like it if you could steal their strength – even if you were a hero." Tsukauchi is only theorizing, but the golden hero flinches at the words. "Is... is that it?"

"No." Somehow the interrogation turned around on him, and All Might finds it much harder to lie at such clear questioning that he himself had begun. He shifts uneasily, and it is obvious that the young officer is slowly getting closer to the truth. It's about time to cut this 'date' short.

"Not stolen then." Tsukauchi is almost breathless from running over the facts in his head, trying to get his thoughts out quickly before All Might pulls away. "Taking – giving? Quirks can't be given, right?"

If he wasn't about to guess the secret to OfA, All Might would have thought the officer's deductive skills were impressive. He was already so close from just one conversation – no, most likely he was also running the options before all this. Still, with what limited information he had...

All Might doesn't answer. He only backs away from Tsukauchi, shaking his head when their contact breaks. The question now is what to do. Threaten him into silence? Just the idea of it puts Toshinori at an unease, and a part of him thinks that it wouldn't work on a personality like Tsukauchi's anyway. Before he can open his mouth again, the younger man is already speaking.

"I think I understand. People would be after a quirk like that. Panic, thinking that someone could take their whole identity away." Were Tsukauchi's eyes always so kind? The shift in attitude was... unsettling. Sincerity where All Might had previously seen cold brevity.

He already knew Tsukauchi was well liked among his coworkers – it was the first thing he asked when he realized that he was the only person in the entire station that Tsukauchi couldn't stand. It always confused him, and despite knowing Tsukauchi would be happier being left alone, he had the urge to know why. It just so happened that they were destined to not like one another with a secret like his.

"I can't just trust you to not say anything." All Might watches as the man sucks in a sharp breath, nodding quietly as his hand closes into a tight fist.

"I understand," Tsukauchi says again. "Trust isn't easy."

Stop. Stop being so understanding. What would Gran Torino do in this situation? Well – that was probably not a good path to go down. It wouldn't be too surprising if the old man beat the memory out of him if he thought it would help. Toshinori blinks, Officer Tsukauchi scribbling something down from a notebook.

"Here. This is... this is my fault. You don't trust me because I shut down, and I'm sorry for that; so let's start over. If you get worried, call me. Check up on me at the precinct. Ask me about my life, I'll answer truthfully – and who knows, maybe we can be friends one day."

Tsukauchi slides the paper across to All Might, a shy, quirked smile on his lips. Toshinori doesn't hope too much for a close friendship after such a rough beginning, but then again, he never expected to become a hero either.


	5. In Vino Veritas

In Vino Veritas.

* * *

He was there. When All Might fought All for One, Detective Tsukauchi was the one to help discover his whereabouts. Two months of chase, slowly closing in. Tsukauchi didn't have All Might's strength, but he worked tirelessly around the clock until they found the villain; then Toshinori had to fight alone.

Tsukauchi still did what he could, using his influence and ordering his team to evacuate the area. The police set up roadblocks outside and everything within a mile radius was cleared out. Nobody else saw it when AfO was nearly defeated, and they didn't see Toshinori hesitate to deliver the final blow. Tsukauchi was the only one who caught a glimpse of AfO when he ran.

He almost chases after him, the wounds he sustained from All Might so grievous that even Naomasa could arrest him... but then he spots Toshinori.

"Fuck." The word falls flat, lost in the spinning emotions and thoughts that plague him. Was he even alive? Blood and bone, his goddamn organswere slick and able to be seen from a distance. His body is already moving toward the fallen hero, heart thudding in his ears. "All Might, stay still... I..."

It's good to know his habits can be relied on, even when he's working on autopilot. Still calling him All Might, shoving his insides haphazardly into place before shifting the bulky weight over his shoulder, just strong enough to fireman carry him out of the building. Tsukauchi doesn't know how he managed to walk down the four flights of stairs it takes to get to the road. Adrenaline, maybe.

"I got you– so stay with me, okay?" His rambling is more for his own benefit than anything else, trying to convince himself that it's not as bad as it looks. All Might's blood sticks to his shirt, soaking through immediately. The man's ragged wheezing is almost comforting; its a sure way to know that he is still alive.

"Tsu..kau...chi?" Weak. All Might's voice sounds so weak, and it scares him.

"It's alright, don't speak. I got you, okay?" They stumble through the halls and out the door, wincing when trying to push against the metal latch. Tsukauchi's strength gives out when he sees the line of police, the sirens and yells melting into a blur of noise. Only one of the officers that run to meet them seems calm enough to be useful. Tsukauchi scans for his name tag – the young man was one of their newest hires from the academy.

"Tamakawa, we need an ambulance, now." To his relief, the man helps him to his feet, taking some of All Might's weight on his shoulder. The only thing that gives away his worry is the distressed purr rumbling through his chest.

"There's one on standby, sir. Come with me." Despite being new, he was capable under pressure. Tsukauchi makes a note to remember the face and name.

The paramedics rush to take All Might, who only groans at the pain when they move him into the ambulance. Losing the body contact feels empty and cold, but it gets worse when he watches the techs struggle to stop the bleeding. All Might mouths Tsukauchi's name, not enough energy left for him to form sounds. The detective pauses apprehensively, looking back to the scene behind him.

"Sir, I can relay your orders – go." Officer Tamakawa Sansa; he remembers the introduction now.

"Thank you. The villain escaped, but is hurt. Search the area... do not hesitate to shoot. Get forensics up to the fourth floor, and do everything to keep this out of the news." His hands grip the back door of the ambulance. Was it irresponsible for him to leave? It was possible that if he stayed, they could catch AfO for good. One of the paramedic shouts, and he can hear All Might let loose a painful hiss. It erases any and all of the doubt in his mind, deciding to get in the vehicle.

"Contact Chief Tsuragamae and tell him my location. I have my cell if you need me." Nodding to the young officer, the edge of his lips upturn slightly in silent thanks. The space inside is cramped, but Tsukauchi doesn't mind as long as Toshinori gets to the hospital, and quickly. Resting a hand over his friend's, he promises that everything will be fine.

xXx

Except that in every meaning of the word, everything was not fine. The surgeries never stopped, each one just finishing before something else went wrong. Shattered bones. Collapsed lung. Numerous lacerations and so many poisons seeping into his stomach that most of it had to be removed.

Toshinori lost blood faster than the doctors could replace it. The orderlies scamper by with more and more bags, and Tsukauchi wonders if he could donate his own. Would it help more if they used blood directly from the vein? No, that didn't even make sense, and a hospital this large surely wouldn't run out. To be honest, he wasn't even sure if their blood types were compatible. God, he was useless.

After twenty nine hours, none of which were spent sleeping, Toshinori finally stabilizes long enough to be wheeled into a private room.

"How... how is he?" Tsukauchi's eyes follow the gurney out of the operating theater, snapping back to the doctor when his friend disappears out of sight. "Can I see him?"

"All Might looks like he'll survive the night, but he'll be bedridden for a good while. We have strict orders to only allow family, so unless–"

"Don't be stupid, we're his family. Need to check the records?" Tsukauchi jumps at the gruff voice behind him, glancing down to see a familiar face. Gran Torino. His expression was twisted in annoyance, glaring at the doctor standing in his way. With a stutter, the doc gives his apology and points them to All Might's location.

"You can't be polite with things like these, Naomasa. Don't give 'em any room." Gran Torino almost fusses at the detective, but seeing the dark circles under his eyes make him think better of it. "Sorry I'm late. I didn't hear until a few hours ago. Came here straight away."

"It's..." Tsukauchi sighs. "I should have called, but–"

"I get it, so don't worry. Let's just check on that fool." It was relieving to have Torino here; he was at a loss when the doctor was about to deny him access to Toshinori. What would he have done? His usual self would have merely smiled and nodded, trying to find a loophole. But right now, with such high tensions... his nails had bit into his fist so sharply that Tsukauchi can still feel the sting.

Toshinori is asleep when they get there – not very surprising of course, the amount of drugs pumped into his system would keep him that way for a while – but seeing him like that, bandaged beyond recognition, without his normal smile; Tsukauchi chokes on his breath. Gran Torino only shakes his head, unable to place his feelings. They both came close to losing someone they loved dearly; the older man places a hand over Tsukauchi's arm in solidarity.

"Nao, I think I already know the answer... but you're already planning on staying, aren't you?" Tsukauchi's eyes swoop down to the left, holding his gaze steady against the old man's. Torino doesn't mean just tonight, but through all this, until he recovers fully. "He's going to need you."

Tsukauchi doesn't answer verbally. If he tried, it was likely that no sound would even come out. Instead he nods, jaw set tightly to hold back his emotions. The answer was: of course. Even if Toshinori didn't need him, he would stay.

xXx

The first day is the hardest. Someone told him that in the waiting room, some well meaning bystander that was only trying to help. Except the first day wasn't the hardest, not by a long shot. The day Toshinori wakes up and the doctors tell him how long he'll be in bed recovering, he frowns, but understands. His body is so weak he can't even muster up the strength to move his head more than side to side. Tsukauchi has to help sit him up so he can look people in the eye. There were so many people.

"You'll be on a liquid diet, All Might. We had to remove your stomach, so eating will be one of the most drastic changes for you, especially as a hero. Expect to lose some of your bulk."

"The medicines you are taking will help with the pain. Most likely, you'll experience nausea, but don't stop taking them."

"When you can move without feeling dizzy, we'll start the physical therapy. You've broken a lot. Your collarbone, your ribs, and a part of your pelvic bone. Walking again will be a process."

Tsukauchi watches every doctor, every specialist speak to All Might, and he writes down every word that sounds important. That's mostly all of it, and Toshinori is barely keeping awake as it is.

"I think that's enough for today." Tsukauchi bows, thanking everyone for their time.

"Shouldn't you go home too?" With a tiny smile, Tsukauchi shakes his head. There's a chair in the corner of the room, one he makes himself acquainted with, dragging it to Toshinori's bedside.

"No, I'm... not too busy these days. I'll be bothering you for a while." There is only so much you can do in a hospital room, and the small hanging television only gives Toshinori a headache. Leaning forward against the railing of the bed, the two friends talk to one another – of the past, of regretting letting All for One go, but most of all of the future.

"Next time," Toshinori keeps saying.

"We'll get him next time. When I get out." The All Might smile still shines on his face, still hopeful that he'll be out of the hospital soon. That's the difference between the first day and week ten or eleven. You still have energy, the will to go on. Before everything seems hopeless and never ending.

The physical therapy starts the exact same way.

xXx

No need for a cast anymore, he's healing on schedule with special visitations from UA's famous Recovery Girl; but she can only do so much against the sheer amount of injuries. By the time his internal organs are healed, Toshinori has to recover his strength on his own. The goals start off small. Toshinori still jokes at this point, feeling better when he can move his fingers slowly, curling them around the stress ball he's supposed to be training with.

"I could've broken this before, easily. How long do you think until I can again?" Tsukauchi only laughs, rolling his eyes at how far ahead Toshinori is looking. Already imagining himself back to saving people.

"Just focus on today, that's what the doctors keep telling you." He pushes a tray of food toward the man, Toshinori finally able to eat something other than soups and vitamin supplements. While Toshi is busy munching happily on the next step up – apple sauce and bananas – Tsukauchi takes the time to collect himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Naomasa practically lives at the hospital. He hasn't been home since All Might was admitted, going to work from the private room, then coming straight back when his shift was over. There's an overnight bag that Gran Torino brought for him the last time he visited, filled with sets of work clothes and grooming items. The old man comes back once a week to see Toshinori and to replace Tsukauchi's things.

"I'm sorry you have to keep running errands like this." They speak in hushed voices when Toshinori is sleeping, Naomasa slumped over in his chair with exhaustion. He tries to give a smile in thanks, but the corners of his mouth never rise far enough.

"It's nothing at all compared to what you've been doing. How... how is he, really?" Torino forces a neutral expression, shifting his gaze back to Toshinori every few minutes.

"Still in pain, even with his insides back to normal. The bones could only be healed halfway, so we're looking at recovering the old fashioned way. And– they're dialing back on the assistance. He's already supposed to be doing things on his own, even though he clearly can't. Toshi... He's still upbeat. I don't think he's noticed yet, since we never stop by the mirror."

"How much weight?"

"About seven kilos so far." His face pinches with stress, and Gran Torino looks the detective over with worry.

"What about you? Are you okay?"

"The other officers have been taking some of my workload. They don't think I can tell, but... because of them, I can come here more often. I'm grateful." Toshinori shifts in his sleep, low whine in his throat, calling out for Tsukauchi.

He stands up quickly, head leaning forward to tell him he's there.

"Bathroom, please." Tsukauchi nods, sweeping the hair out of the semi-conscious man's face. Sitting him up and sliding his legs over the edge of the bed, Toshinori leans into his chest. They've both gotten so used to the actions, the routine of it; there isn't any embarrassment between them. Even with the weight loss, Tsukauchi still strains, muscles tightening and shaking slightly to hold him upright.

Gran Torino follows them with his eyes, merely observing. He doesn't miss the way the detective's gaze softens at how Toshinori's head nods, still half asleep from the drugs. The next time he visits, he makes sure that Naomasa catches up on much needed rest, taking over his duties for at least one day a week.

It's been two months now, with All Might out of the news and people wondering where their number one hero had gone. They're oblivious to the fact Toshinori was just relearning how to push himself up from the bed, that he could only now bathe by himself, though Tsukauchi still needed to carry him. Even that much had Toshinori grinning triumphantly; it was probably the last time he saw him smile.

The progress slows, then plateaus.

"One more time, okay?" It's been a week since he's crossed any of the milestones. Tsukauchi holds his broken friend tight to his hip, supporting most of his weight. Toshinori whimpers as Tsukauchi slowly lets go so he can stand on his own.

"It hurts." He almost moves back to hold Toshinori upright, but he needs to keep going; needs to get stronger. Except Toshinori's been so pale lately, sweating even when he isn't moving. Toshi keeps insisting that he's fine – so keeps nodding, keeps hiding his worry behind a reassuring smile.

"Hold on to the rails, you can do it."

Toshinori's arms shake, trying to give his legs some relief when his foot rises. He inhales a sharp breath before willing his right foot up, then forward; he touches the ground and shifts his weight only to collapse on the ground, the physical therapists running to his side.

"SHIT." They look to Tsukauchi, afraid to touch All Might. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

"Hey, no–"

"Why can't I do this?" Tsukauchi shakes his head, dismissing everyone from the room. His hands rub Toshinori's back, trying to calm him down from the constant shaking. "I was getting better, Tsukauchi! Now everything hurts, and I..."

The first day is never the hardest, because there isn't enough time for anything to have gone wrong. Toshinori trails off in the middle of his sentence, eyes widening and nails scratching at his chest. He starts coughing, coughing, coughing... his face pales even more, unable to breathe. Tsukauchi yells for the doctors, afraid to know what's gone wrong. His fingers dig into Toshinori's shoulders to still him. It takes all his resolve not to hold him. Because it wouldn't be helpful when he already can't breathe, he tells himself.

Toshinori's hacking up blood, and some sort of black tar. The doctors finally return, assessing the situation with hardened practice. There's orders Tsukauchi doesn't understand, and they push him aside to provide aid. He watches helplessly as they wheel him away to surgery, something that he thought was long done with.

Relapse.

It's another two weeks before Toshinori can try walking again. He's been bedridden, forced off of solid foods until they figure out what's wrong. Tsukauchi gets into the habit of bringing the wastebasket when Toshinori starts to cough, and the sight of so much blood becomes common. It's much easier to carry him now, his arms wrapping further around the bulk of his friend's body.

He starts smoking again when that happens. Naomasa is starting to break, but he can't; he's not allowed to. Not in front of Toshinori, whose eyes are listless, darkening more and more every day. So Tsukauchi lights up a cigarette before and after work, the instant he steps outside of the office or the hospital. It's the only six minutes he gets to himself before he slides on a courteous smile and tries to get through the day.

Toshinori is far worse off. The amount of doctors double, even when they return to physical therapy. Technically he's been doing better, finally able to take a few steps; but the improvement remains only physical.

"Are you ready, All Might? Just take hold of the walker, you've been doing great." The therapists have taken over again, and in a twist of irony, he's finally able to walk after he's decided that going back to what he used to be was impossible.

Naomasa watches quietly, taking note of Toshinori's new habit; looping his thumb and middle finger around his wrist to measure how close the digits are to touching. The doctors are busy congratulating All Might to really take into account how often he does it, but Tsukauchi's stomach drops.

Toshinori knows he's shrinking more than expected.

xXx

Tsukauchi wakes up with a start – when did he fall asleep? It's been too long since he's slept in a proper bed, the joints and muscles in his body protesting loudly. Wait; where is Toshinori? His eyes slide over to the empty bed, his tubes and wires left behind. If he left to just go to the bathroom, he wouldn't have unhooked everything, right? He tries to process where Toshinori could have possibly gone.

Crash

Panic. So, it was the bathroom after all.

Tsukauchi leaps from his seat, legs almost giving out when he does. He has to catch himself on the edge of the hospital bed, and there's a tiny stab of pain when he hits the railing; but right now it's more important to throw open the bathroom door.

The first noticeable thing is the mirror. Shattered, with hardly any reflective surface left on it. Tsukauchi's eyes drag downward to where the pieces fell, and there is Toshinori, shaking with his fist cradled in his other arm. Blood. His hand is bleeding.

It's only a few seconds that he's stood there, but Tsukauchi already understands what's happened. The sharp hiss that escapes from his lips makes Toshinori turn; somehow the door slamming open wasn't enough to catch his attention.

"Why did you do this?" The question isn't angry, only filled with concern. Tsukauchi kneels next to the trembling man, taking his hands gently. Shards of glass stick into his skin, blood trickling down into a growing puddle on the tile floor.

"Toshinori... let me see." The necessary supplies are already in the bathroom, a small reprieve in the grand scheme of things – tweezers, gauze, peroxide. Tsukauchi picks the glass out, turning and studying Toshi's hands to make sure he's found all of it.

"It's not me." Blinking up at Toshinori's face, his work slows to a crawl so he can listen to the quiet words. "No matter how many times I look, it's not me. I hate it. I'm wasting away."

There was no way to deny the physical changes. All Might was the picture of health and strength, and that was draining, dwindling down to a hollow, dark look. Toshinori flinches when the peroxide pours over the cuts on his hand, Tsukauchi sympathetic to the unnecessary pain. The bandages are next.

"You're a little skinnier, but it's still you. So don't give up just yet." He's still trying to keep the morale up, still smiling despite how bad things have gotten. It only makes Toshinori snap.

"There's nothing left of me, not one thing left of All Might! I don't know why you're still here, Tsukauchi. Are you having fun putting a broken hero back together? I can see it in their eyes – the nurses, the goddamn doctors!" His eyes are so dark, cold... lifeless. Stop. That kind of look, that doesn't belong on the face of his best friend. That's not his Toshinori. "Leave, like everyone else."

Tsukauchi opens his mouth – then closes it.

"I'm here because I'm your friend. I'm here because I love you." The things he wants to say, Toshinori doesn't need them. He doesn't need the excuses, or explanations; apparently he doesn't need Tsukauchi, either. Face twisted with self doubt, he wonders if he was trying too hard for all the wrong reasons. Because he couldn't let go.

"Do you want me to leave?" Toshinori's eyes immediately widen in fear.

"NO!" It had to hurt, how tightly that bandaged hand clenched around Tsukauchi's shirt, but still Toshinori held on like it was the only thing stopping him from disappearing. "Tsu, Tsu – I'm sorry. Please, don't leave me too."

The frantic desperation, the utter fear that he would actually walk away... Tsukauchi's heart crumples beneath his chest.

"I didn't mean it. I... I hate this; me. You're the only one who still sees All Might. I want to – need to – see what you see."

Fuck. Fuck.

He's trembling, tears collecting and threatening to fall. Tsukauchi's only seen him cry once, after Nana died. The entire day he kept to himself, until he came back determined to keep smiling for his crazy version of justice and heroism. Tsukauchi had thought it strange and unnecessary, but now he wishes that it would come back.

"No matter what happens, you'll always be All Might. It's you, okay? You're my best friend... my hero. Always. Always, so I'm not going to leave." It's not enough to cup Toshinori's face in his hands. Tsukauchi asks again; okay? There's a slight nod. Some of the light in his eyes come back, and Tsukauchi pulls him to his chest in a shaking embrace.

This was fine, right? He was only holding him for comfort, because Toshinori needed this. Just for tonight – no. Just until the hysterics calmed. It would be nice to stay like this, but the doctors would get angry if Toshi stayed unhooked from their machines for much longer, and he needed to clear the floor of blood and glass.

For now Tsukauchi tightens his grip, breathing in the faint remains of Toshinori's scent hasn't been covered up by antimicrobial cleansers from the hospital. A part of him feels guilty that the smell of ash probably lingered in his own clothing, and he hopes that it doesn't affect Toshi's breathing.

If it does bother him, Toshinori doesn't complain.

xXx

"How're you doing?" Gran Torino sits at the side of the bed, trying not to seem too relieved that his pupil is lucid again.

"I'm fine. Getting around, slowly." He eyes the walker shoved halfway under the bed. "You're here two days earlier than usual – and Tsukauchi hasn't come in yet. Why?"

Torino just snorts.

"Naomasa is downstairs getting his wrist checked for a sprain. I imagine it has something to do with your missing mirror?" He's not accusing, but still the blonde looks away guiltily.

"That was... that's okay, for now. My fault, not his. I still don't want to look, so there's no point in replacing it."

"Changes happen, Toshinori. Sometimes faster than we want them to." It didn't seem that long ago when he was still looking eye-to-eye with an upstart brat, training him to become the so called symbol of peace. He had gotten so old, so quickly. Then there were the worst of the changes, like the death of his best friend; but he doesn't want to think of that, not with Toshinori still hospitalized. "They're talking about a release date if you keep up this progress."

Toshinori doesn't answer.

"Nao... he's a good man, so don't worry him so much."

"Just him, or you too?" It's slight, but the lighthearted banter returns.

"Everyone wants to see All Might come back – I suppose you can add me in there too." Gran Torino is surprised when Toshinori laughs quietly, muttering about how an old man's stubbornness never changes.

There's a cough from the doorway, Tsukauchi tipping in a shallow bow to apologize for his intrusion. His wrist is swathed in gauze, dark purple splotches edging out from where it the bandages couldn't reach without limiting his mobility.

"Ah, it looks worse than it is... should heal in a few days." Toshinori is already eyeing the sprain, regret showing in his expression. Tsukauchi speaks gently, worried that this would only make the spiral of self hatred continue. "Really, it's fine."

He's already brushing off the injury, settling in his chair to work on some case files from the station.

"Did you already finish today's physical therapy?" Naomasa looks to Gran Torino, who nods and while collecting his things.

"Its coming along, but the pace is still too slow. Villains aren't going to stop hurting people until All Might's return." The detective gives him a stern look, but Torino is insistent. "You know it's true, Naomasa."

"Still–"

"No, he's right." Toshinori's hand reaches for Tsukauchi's sprained one, though he winces with the effort. "You need to take care of yourself too, or you'll end up in here with me. Can't have Japan losing a good policeman too." The compliment catches him off-guard, eyes widening before his years of practice slides him into a more neutral look.

"Oh... of course." How eloquent. Torino snorts at their awkwardness, turning to leave for the day but promising to come by again soon. Once he slips out of the room, Toshinori leans closer.

"Tsukauchi, I'm serious. I– I'm trying, but it isn't that easy. Walking was still hard, and... do you know how many machines in the hospital are reflective? Having you here is the only thing keeping me going."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Tsukauchi looks like he wants to object. Instead, he sighs, shutting his case files and scooting them off to the side. The nurses might get angry, but suddenly he feels like they need a break from this room, from routine and sitting idly in bed.

"It's a little more work for you, but do you want to take a walk around the hospital? Just this once should be fine. I'll take responsibility if they complain."

Toshinori takes his outstretched hand, this time strong enough to pull himself over the edge of the mattress. It takes a few minutes to remove all the monitors from his body, and he almost snaps the sensor stuck to his back before Tsukauchi peels it off. Tightening his grip around the rubber handles, his balance is shaky – but he can stand.

They only make it down a few halls before the nurses find him panting near the waiting room. Tsukauchi is close enough for him to lean on, bowing apologetically and smiling despite the scolding lecture. It's more exercise than Toshinori's gotten in a long while, but the burn in his lungs is the good kind, and for the first time since his relapse his body feels light in a way not related to his size.

They get in to trouble a few more times with their late night walks; but they always seem worth the lectures in the end.

xXx

Tsukauchi was late today; there was a work meeting he couldn't get out of because it ran too long, which cascaded down to getting stuck in rush hour traffic, then he spent twenty minutes finding a parking spot at the hospital. He's winded by the time he runs to Toshinori's room, heart almost stopping only to find it empty. One of the nurses pops their head in the door behind him.

"There you are, detective! If you could hurry to the physical training room."

The words don't do much for his nerves – 'hurry' wasn't something you wanted to hear when you've been looking after an almost dying friend for three and a half months. Tsukauchi tries not to panic, but his breathing doesn't settle until he can see for himself that Toshinori is safe.

"Oh, Tsukauchi! Stay... stay there." Toshinori chirps out excitedly to his friend, who still stands in the middle of the doorway with a look of concern. The mess of blonde hair sways when he straightens up from his walker, pushing it aside and taking a deep breath.

One cautious step.

He waivers for a moment, shifting his weight slowly, steadily.

Another.

Time stretches on forever, Tsukauchi clutching at the lapels of his coat in wonderment. Toshinori's face crinkles in concentration, small beads of sweat forming on his temple – but he keeps going. When he crosses half the room he almost stumbles, and Tsukauchi hesitantly moves forward. Toshinori jerks his head up, waving him away.

He starts again.

Tsukauchi's eyes begin to mist over when they're only ten feet apart. Eight feet, six, then only four. By the time he stops, Toshinori's legs are trembling. He's damp and tired, the dark circles under his eyes dark and shadowed. Still, the smile on his face is so utterly vibrant that he's never looked lovelier.

"What'd you think?"

Breath catching in his throat, Tsukauchi finds himself closing the distance before his brain has time to process. He almost knocks him over in his excitement, arms circling around Toshinori and practically crushing him against his body. The taller man squeaks out a sound of surprise when he's lifted a few inches from the ground.

"...oud... I'm so proud of you, Toshinori." All the stress seems to melt away, and he doesn't want to let go; it was the only real way he could get across how pleased he was.

Eventually though, he has to. Toshinori is turning pink from the lack of air, and his hospital gown is only getting damp from Tsukauchi's tears. Setting his friend back down, he swipes away the moisture from his eyes.

"Does Gran Torino know?"

"No, I wanted you to be the first to see." They're both grinning like fools, and the doctors almost feel guilty for interrupting the moment.

"E-excuse me, All Might. We still need to finish the session."

"Hm? Oh, sure." Tsukauchi reluctantly uncurls his fingers from where they were entangled in Toshinori's sleeve, patting him lightly for encouragement.

It's been too long since they had any hope.

The hardships never truly disappear. Toshinori still coughs up blood; he still lies awake after seeing his reflection for too long, cursing how pathetic he's become. But those things become tolerable in time, especially as the rest of him gets better.

Tsukauchi knocks on the hospital room door, peering in to see if Toshinori is ready. He's hunched over the bed, signing the last of the discharge paperwork so they can leave. His clothes now hang limply over his thinner frame, but overall it's an improvement from the depressing blue hospital gown he'd been sporting.

"Ready to go?" Tsukauchi shifts the bag of medications he's holding into the crook of his arm. Both their personal things have been shoved into his overnight bag, leaving Toshinori hands free and able to focus on walking. With a short grunt, Tsukauchi brings the bag over his shoulder.

Toshinori smiles and nods; their progress is still slow, but they can walk out down the halls, through the elevator, and out the front door together. Tsukauchi leans close enough that Toshinori can rest on his shoulder when needed. There's too many unknowns for this to be the end – how would One for All work in this new body, for example. He can walk, but can he still fight?

They've only passed the first hurdle, and the next one seems to loom over him ominously. But this time Toshinori knows he has someone to rely on.

"You alright?" Tsukauchi tilts his head, forehead wrinkled in concern. They've been standing at the hospital entrance for some time now. The doors slide open automatically when they leave, Tsukauchi rummaging his pockets for car keys.

The sunlight shines warmly, it's brightness softer than the harsh lights of the hospital. The air is fresher, somehow; even so far downtown. Toshinori's hand reaches around the detective's shoulder, pulling him close as they walk toward the parking lot. For stability, for thanks, just because he wanted to – there were a mix of reasons.

"Yeah, Tsu. I think I am."

* * *

This was not a thing I was ready for.  
1\. I was supposed to write fluff  
2\. IT NEVER ENDED. I couldn't stop writing! I'm still wondering if I should have added more.

The title is for 'telling the truth under the influence of wine', which I thought was appropriate because of what can't be hidden when they go through all this hardship.

also: special thanks to ArcaneEnchantment, because half this headcanon comes from us gushing about it.


	6. The Spoken Truth

Quick note: This story did not want to be written. I just loved the idea so I had to trudge through my brain not producing a easy scene. The quality is kinda up and down... but I DID IT. Please enjoy it, it's seasoned with my salty tears.

* * *

All Might's debut started off with a bang. His video online had so many hits that it was no surprise that his agency office started getting fan mail almost immediately. There were all sorts of 'fans'; hundreds of drawings from children, some with their own imaginings of their future hero selves. Selfies and professional head shots from fans asking him out, as if seeing them in a letter would make him fall in love. Then of course there were boxes upon boxes of letters filled with thank yous from the people he'd saved. Even in the beginning, it wasn't possible for him to read them all.

So the fact that he saw _that_ letter was a miracle.

It was plain and simple compared to the others. Most were covered in stickers or art; pops of color, odd shapes... but not this one. Slightly larger than a normal envelope and made of thick manilla, it was closed with a simple wax seal set in a deep red color. It didn't even have a stamp.

Maybe it was the seal that caught his eye. Most people only used personal seals for business transactions, though usually pressed into ink, and even that was falling out of favor this day and age. Something about it made him want to open it, and so despite the sea of flashy letters, his fingers carefully break the wax so he can pull out the clean sheet of paper inside.

* * *

 _All Might,_

 _You're shining brightly already with a smile that gives hope._

 _I think if it's you, the world will change._

 _Forever,_

 _Your oldest fan._

* * *

It struck a cord, those words. _Hope_. Someone wrote the very thing that brought him to his mentor without even knowing it. He wanted to change the world as the symbol of peace; how funny someone got so close to guessing that goal. Toshinori looks over the letter once more, wrinkling his brow when he realizes there's no name. His oldest fan. Not the biggest – that was what people usually put down – but oldest.

He wondered if there was some centennial out there collecting All Might merchandise... a strange thought to be sure. Smoothing out the corners of the letter, he stuffs it back in the envelope. He never felt right about throwing away fan mail, so they actually stayed safe in a storage room he rented. Eventually they would have to go to recycling, if only to save himself from swimming in paper and postage.

This one goes home with him.

His life resumed after that, the weeks going by like normal. Punching villains and taking them to jail. Soup kitchens, fundraisers, smiling at talk shows, and even more punches. Honestly, it was more than he thought to be a hero. Image didn't seem to be a problem for him initially, but eventually he realized that the people expected more than being saved. If Endeavor was any indication that strength and ability could only go so far, then there wasn't really a choice. Becoming number one was a long, busy road, much to his chagrin.

It was about that time the second letter came. Same humble packaging, classy and clean. He was actually reading another fan's mail in the middle of his agency's office when he spotted the odd coloring about three stacks over. Quickly scanning the rest of the letter in his hands, Toshinori switches to the new stack, taking the familiar letter from the pile. Hopefully it wasn't wrong of him to have favorites among his fans.

* * *

 _All Might,_

 _Being a hero probably feels like a lie sometimes, having to work at your popularity over being a good person. You're strong, though. Not just physically, but in your convictions. It's easy to see when you speak and when you're saving people. Don't give up._

 _Forever,_

 _Your oldest fan._

* * *

Toshinori pauses, scrutinizing the letter again. They had to be watching the programs he was slotted to do by his PR team, because how else would they know? Unless it was really that obvious to the people watching that he was struggling. His grandparent of a fan could possibly be observant, a trait most elderly people shared. Not even his fellow heroes else ever said a thing, so the reasoning made sense in his mind..

Nobody else knew about the letters. There wasn't much to tell, honestly. Besides, he didn't want word to leak and then have to sort through look-alike mail. His thoughts are cut off when the vibration from his cell brings him back to reality, the cheesy text notification going off with a muffled 'For a text is here!' coming from his pocket.

He was supposed to meet Tsukauchi for dinner soon, which had embarrassingly slipped his mind. Flipping open his cell and pulling up the text, Toshinori breathes a sigh of relief.

[Tsu]: Just got done with my shift...can change and be there approx 1hr? Last minute errand, sorry.

It was more than perfect, Toshinori tucking the new letter away and hurrying out the door. He could get to his apartment to change out of his hero clothes, make it to the restaurant, and get seated before Tsukauchi could. That also meant he had the time to speak to the waiter beforehand about the check. If he didn't, then his friend was liable to try and 'pay' him back for all the times Toshinori had taken care of the bill.

He was the one that invited him out, though, and pro heroes tended to make much more than the police did. Besides, it was fun to watch Tsukauchi, a man who was almost always calm and professional, get flustered for once. He chuckles over the picture of it, the way his eyes tended widen and his lips would purse into a tight line before trying to argue his way into paying. He didn't want to owe Toshinori, is what he'd said before. But that wasn't how the hero saw it.

They were friends.

The spot they chose was a hole in the wall known only to locals, but the sushi was better (and cheaper) than any high end place you could find. Their table was at the end in a corner, Toshinori taking up the side away from walk-through traffic so his size didn't bother anyone. When the door opens and Tsukauchi comes in, he waves enthusiastically to bring him over.

His friend plops down in the chair across from Toshinori, shrugging off his jacket happily and pulling the menu toward him. After going through the usual talk about work, the conversation steers toward getting recognized by the media. Tsukauchi sighs, having just gotten finished with a press conference about a string of robberies that had happened in town.

Curiosity gets the better of Toshinori, who wonders about the other side of fame. Without bringing up the specific fan he was thinking of, he asks Tsukauchi about his thoughts on the fan attention heroes got.

"Fans?" Naomasa tilts his head, closing his eyes in thought before answering fully. He was usually careful in his words when it came to off the wall questions, a habit he picked up from the various media interviews he'd just complained about. "I think everyone's probably a fan of something or another. Heroes aren't much different. People will admire you, Toshinori, so having fans isn't a bad thing. You're allowed to enjoy it."

Ah. It wasn't what he was expecting, but as always, Tsukauchi knew what he was worried about. While the police force did similar work, they never received the same type of praise. He wouldn't have been surprised if the idea of fans was silly to the man. Still, his opinion puts him at ease, even if he keeps the particular fan he'd been thinking of a secret.

"Are you that surprised? Would you prefer me saying to ignore that part of the job?" Naomasa laughs, pushing his plate toward the hero. "Here. I saved you the parts you liked, I'm already stuffed."

Toshinori frowns, feeling guilty about always taking the last of his food. But his chopsticks are already reaching for the piece of pickled daikon still waiting to be eaten. Naomasa grins knowingly.

"Tsu, are you a fan of heroes?" His words get muffled when he takes a bite in the middle of the sentence, 'heroes' only being understood through context. The officer leans on his hand, watching his friend eat with amusement.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Toshinori's lips puff out in laughter, trying to imagine calm and serious Tsukauchi buying hero merchandise or sending in meticulously drawn art to his favorite hero. Swallowing down his food, he waves his chopsticks in the air dismissively.

"I don't know, I guess I thought you'd be disillusioned since you work with them. I've never seen you get any hero-like products." Tsukauchi hums, sitting back in his chair with his eyes fixed at the ceiling.

"Let's see. I might have an All Might toothbrush somewhere." That makes Toshinori choke, and he hits his chest, struggling for breath.

"That doesn't count at all!" It comes out as a raspy squeak until he can clear his throat. Tsukauchi just shrugs.

Wiping away the tears collecting in his eyes, Toshinori motions for the waiter. He doesn't even ask for the check, instead holding up his card and grinning when Tsukauchi gives him a look. His dark eyes narrow and Toshinori can tell he's fighting back the urge to snatch the small square of plastic away. The waiter quickly slips the card from his hands before he can try, however, ignoring the thick tension at the table with amazing ease.

"You did it. _Again_." Toshinori gives him an amused grin until he gets a pinch to the hand for his troubles. It's still funny to see Tsukauchi's eyebrows wrinkle up and his cheeks go pink with anger; he always thought it made his friend look younger, cuter even, in a boyish sort of way.

It's why he can't help but get in one more jab, telling him, "If it bothers you so much, you can get the tip."

Tsukauchi huffs, only half sure that the American-loving hero is kidding. Studying his face, he decides to remind him anyway.

"We don't tip here."

"I know."

When the next letter came, it wasn't filled with anything important, just heartfelt thanks. Toshinori didn't bother opening it at the office, instead just taking it straight home to read it there. Tsukauchi was already on the way to his apartment to drop off some paperwork and watch a movie... well okay, a _few_ movies because the officer had admitted that he's never seen any of the Star Wars films. After setting up the living room with snacks and the dvd player set to play when they were ready, he slits open the envelope with interest.

* * *

 _All Might,_

 _To be honest, seeing you out there makes me worry. Is that weird for a fan to think about for a hero? It's like watching your family putting themselves in danger, except I know you're more than capable. So many people are safer because of you. So thank you for being there, and take care of yourself._

 _Forever,_

 _Your oldest fan_

* * *

Just as he finishes the final words, there's a knock at the door. Toshinori quickens his pace to the entrance, not even bothering with the peephole – it wasn't as if anyone could really surprise and overtake him, after all. He beams at Tsukauchi, waving him inside.

Tsukauchi removes his hat and bows politely before coming in; no matter how many times Toshinori says it isn't necessary he did it every time. It was probably a habit the man would never break. Waiting while his friend removes his coat and shoes, his heart jumps when Tsukauchi's eyes drift to the envelope still sitting in his hands.

"Oh, this..." Toshinori chuckles nervously, somewhat ashamed that he was showing favoritism to certain fans, and one he never met at that. Tsukauchi waits, blinking impassively.

"It's fan mail. I usually keep these things at the work office but..." He didn't really know what to say. Toshinori leads him inside to the living room, stuffing the envelope next to the other ones on a high shelf only a man his height could reach unassisted. Even if Tsukauchi didn't have a truth quirk, anyone could tell by the small collection that this wasn't his usual way of dealing with fan gratitude. Gesturing to the identical envelopes, he runs his hand through his hair sheepishly. "It's not bad to choose favorites, is it?"

Tsukauchi stops in front of the couch, a strange look on his face. Toshinori almost panics, thinking maybe it was a weird thing after all. With one last glance up to the letters, his friend curves his mouth in a tiny half smile and shakes his head.

"If any fan letters move you then keep them – it's not like you're ripping up the other ones, right? Your fan would be happy too. But, I wouldn't feel bad about throwing away any presents if you receive them. I've seen heroes get baked goods and perfumes before, but those could be dangerous. Don't let your kindness get you hurt, alright?"

Toshinori rolls his eyes.

"Even _I_ wouldn't go that far to please people, you know." Tsukauchi snorts in disbelief, picking up the bowl of snacks that were left on the table and flopping down on the couch. Toshinori follows suit, hitting the play button and wrapping an arm around Tsukauchi's shoulder as punishment for his lack of confidence, squeezing so tightly that he gets a face full of popcorn as a warning to let go.

"Did you put the right one in? This says it's episode four." Toshinori grabs at the bowl and confiscates it, taking a piece and throwing it at Tsukauchi's head in retaliation.

"Of _course_ it's the right one. This is the correct order for maximum enjoyment. Tsu! You'll be raving about Jedi and space in no time."

Tsukauchi hums, leaning back into the couch. "If you say so, but I do have to work early tomorrow, so I can't watch them all tonight."

He squeaks when Toshinori shifts his body weight on top of his, a loud sound of protest rumbling in his chest. Toshinori sticks his lip out in a half-attempt at puppy dog eyes. Tsukauchi insists though, not feeling terribly apologetic when he was squished under literal hundreds of pounds of muscle. "Seriously, I want to make detective soon. It's the best way for them to know my work, and besides I enjoy it."

"Mm. If you ask me you've already done more than enough. You could not come in for the next week and still get promoted."

"That's like saying you would still be a hero after punching a civilian in the face..." Toshinori laughs, the booming sound unique to him and not just his All Might persona. This one was softer and less forced, something more genuine.

Sighing happily at their banter, Tsukauchi relaxes into the cushions, elbowing Toshinori in the side for more room. His focus changes toward the movie when the scrolling text comes up, the music catching his attention. By the time the ending credits roll, Tsukauchi was a fan.

His early night and hard work ended up paying off, because two months later Toshinori found himself invited to Tsukauchi's promotion ceremony. He was proud of his friend, but found it difficult to focus on when it was near another important event – the day Nana died.

Only a handful of people were even aware it was coming up, Toshinori making sure that his All Might persona was still exuding the usual Plus Ultra personality. So when he got the next letter, he was confused. He wondered how long it was sitting at the agency office, because the coincidence was too strong otherwise. But like all the others, the envelope didn't have postage or an official stamp – more like someone dropped it off themselves.

* * *

 _All Might,_

 _You can't save everyone. I watched you say that on TV today. The other top heroes have failed before, but in your whole career when you arrive on the scene, there isn't a single person that isn't saved. As amazing as that is, remember that you aren't alone. The people that you hide your worries from, I'm sure they want you to know you can count on them. You're allowed to be human. You're allowed to rely on the people that love you._

 _Don't feel guilty about the ones you didn't save._

 _Forever,_

 _Your oldest fan._

* * *

Toshinori never paid much attention to the interviews he did or _when_ he did them... but looking over the words his fan wrote, he suddenly wished he remembered. Was it on purpose that he received this letter now, at this time of year? It wasn't like he received these on a schedule either. They tended to show up when Toshinori needed an extra boost.

Walking through the crowd and heading toward the stage, Toshinori looks around the private venue hoping to spot Tsukauchi. He had his biggest hero smile on, pushing away the onslaught of old feelings for the sake of his best friend. His acting skills were definitely in place, the officers and heroes attending the promotion ceremony looking on with admiration. _They_ couldn't tell, so his favorite fan shouldn't be able to either. Merely a coincidence.

"All Might!" Toshinori turns toward the voice, ready to congratulate the man of the hour. Officer – no, it would be Detective Tsukauchi soon, waves him over, dressed to the nines in his formal uniform. Everything was pressed by Tsukauchi himself, Toshinori watching him do it one day with a seriousness that most people would never use for something like ironing. Tsukauchi is laughing now, half their conversation missed because Toshinori was staring and lost in thought. He does catch something about how difficult it was to keep his clothes pristine.

"I haven't sat or eaten all day." Tsukauchi's laughter dies down, but he is still amused by that fact; Toshinori is more concerned, humming his disapproval.

Tsukauchi isn't too bothered, tilting his head when another thought comes to mind, eyes flitting up to meet Toshinori's.

"I'll eat after, but what about you?" He smiles, slipping into a more supportive role than the one he's been designated as 'honoree'. Expressing worry about his friend. "I'm here if you need me, alright? After, ah, all this of course. Well, even during if you wanted."

Toshinori focuses on the floor, a stinging sensation filling his chest. He knew what Tsukauchi meant. Gran Torino was most likely around here somewhere, ready to say something as well. But ruining the occasion and taking away from the hard work Tsukauchi went through... his friend deserved to celebrate and not have to deal with Toshinori's feelings.

"It's been long enough that I can handle it. Just focus on getting pinned." Even if the loss still left him empty, he shouldn't have to rely on others for so long.

 _Rely_.

"Tsu? Do you ever write letters?" Only two people knew about the guilt he would be holding. There was no reason for either of them to send mail, though, not when they could just talk to Toshinori face to face. It didn't make sense.

The officer is taken aback at the sudden question, shifting from one foot to another with his head tilted to the side. Tsukauchi doesn't _look_ like he's hiding anything, but then again he wasn't the easiest man to read. "Hm. I think I write more emails than anything, what's up?"

This was ridiculous. Of the thousands of people it could be, it happened to be his best friend? Might as well throw Torino in there too as a possibility. He shakes the idea from his head.

"Oh, it's nothing."

Their conversation is interrupted by a tapping over the speaker system, Chief Tsuragamae clearing his throat to gather everyone's attention. Tsukauchi jumps, sitting his cover on the top of his head and rushing to the stage. Toshinori watches him go, scrambling to stand next to his superior officer as the speech begins.

Everyone waits, listening to the pride and gratitude the police force had for Tsukauchi. How the hours and dedication he put in was rewarded by gaining the next rank early – the regular promotion ceremony for their district wasn't until next month. Tsukauchi stands at attention, executing a left face to turn toward the Chief. The only thing that can be heard are the clinking of his medals and the swish of clothes when he salutes, dropping it only when the new rank gets pinned on his collar.

There's a loud applause, and Tsuragamae pushes him toward the mic. There are a few people that call for some words from Detective Tsukauchi; Toshinori tries to keep a straight face as his friend squirm uncomfortably.

"Thank you for your support, everyone. I'm honored." Tsukauchi's 'speech' causes a rustle of laughter to break out in the audience. He never did like talking himself up. When he walks offstage, though, his smile has never been more vibrant.

Toshinori makes sure to lift him in the air when he hugs him, the congratulations past due now that Tsukauchi didn't need to be wrinkle free. There is a loud yelp in protest, but Tsukauchi hugs him back in return. When he finally lets his friend go, his face has gone pink from the lack of air. Toshinori laughs at the sight, promising to treat the new detective to a meal later. If there weren't so many people looking on, he probably would have held him longer.

~ . ~

Naomasa is there again today. He has been since day one. Toshinori can count the stress lines in his forehead now, and the dark circles underneath his eyes were much more noticeable than he'd ever seen before. The guilty part of Toshinori doesn't want his friend to keep up these insane hours just to stay in the hospital with him.

Then again, his heart feels at ease when he isn't alone. Wait, no. That wasn't entirely true. Even when Gran Torino visits, the calming effect isn't quite the same. It's only when the detective comes that he can breathe so easily. The smell of antiseptic gets covered by his presence, and the four whitewashed walls that tend to close in on him start to fade away. Amazing what good company could do; not that Torino wasn't good company. He was just... gruff, comparatively.

On one of the visits, after Toshinori was closer to recovery than dying, Naomasa comes in with his nerves shot and face apologetic. There's a box in his hands, one that he gingerly places at the end of Toshinori's hospital bed

"Nao, what's wrong?" He tries to sit up more, stretching to get a peek at the box. Almost everything in his body stitched together with luck, the last of the pain, while manageable, still didn't let him get far.

"I just need to run to the office – it's impossible to stay today. Is that alright?" If Toshinori would admit it, Naomasa probably didn't need to keep coming as frequently as he did. The doctors were even talking of getting him released soon.

Reaching into his pocket, Naomasa pulls out a notebook and a pen, hastily writing a note and pushing it into Toshinori's hands. "Questions for the doctor. Make sure they get that." With only a brief moment of hesitation, Naomasa rests a hand on the top of Toshinori's head, ruffling his hair before rushing off. He calls out behind him, the ends of his coat fluttering when he leaves through the door. "The box is full of fan mail – sorry I didn't think of this before!"

"Right..." Toshinori trails off, hovering over the place Naomasa had touched and looking down at the slip of paper in his palm. Curious, he looks over the list, the tiny, neat scrawl inquiring about any new medicines and health risks for when he gets back. He wants to roll his eyes at how worried Tsukauchi was being, but really, he had every right after letting AfO get away.

Putting the note on the side table next to him, Toshinori leans over and lifts the box with some effort. It's harder than it looks you only have one good arm. The box is filled to the brim with letters, and Toshinori drags a finger along the edges of the neat stacks.

The first one is from a little girl in Osaka who wanted to grow up to be like him. There were more than a few marriage propositions; some from adoring fans, and some (perhaps more worryingly) from influential families that were interested in his quirk. He lets out a snort of disgust at that.

They would be sorely disappointed if it was ever brought to light the true nature of his quirk. That, and he never really approved of that sort of arrangement. Feeling around for another letter, his hands clasp around a large envelope, smooth to the touch. Pulling it out, he smiles at finding another one of his special letters.

* * *

 _All Might,_

 _The world is worried for you. You disappeared without a trace. I'll tell you a secret, and hopefully you'll eventually read it. Don't take this the wrong way, but I always thought your All Might smile was odd. Why would someone force themselves to smile like that, beating up villains and seeing people get hurt? But now I miss it. Wherever you are, don't lose your smile._

 _We're waiting for it to come back._

 _Forever,_

 _Your oldest fan._

* * *

Toshinori wants to laugh. So there were people who thought his signature expression was weird; can't please everyone it seems. A few people he knew weren't fooled by the plus ultra personality when they first met him, Naomasa included.

A strange thought bubbles up again, and Toshinori drifts to the note Tsukauchi left for the doctor. Tentatively, he pulls the scrap of paper off the table, looking at the offhand writing. His letters were written in more cursive-type characters, so it was difficult to compare to the shorthand on the note. Toshinori sighs, not sure what he was hoping for. This wasn't the first time he thought – wanted? – the letters to have come from his friend.

What did he expect if it was?

When Naomasa comes back the next day, he doesn't say anything about the newest pile of mail next to his hospital bed, or a certain letter sitting right at the top. His eyes do drift over in that direction, but his face doesn't betray any special emotion, not even curiosity about the contents. Instead he asks about Toshinori's recovery, and what he missed from yesterday.

"Thank you."

"What?" Toshinori's gratitude is unexpected, Naomasa almost dropping this cell in surprise. He recovers quickly, shaking head. "All I've done is come visit." With a laugh, his expression softens. "I couldn't call myself your best friend if I at least didn't do that much, now could I?"

Even knowing Naomasa couldn't lie because of his quirk, there were still some serious doubts that anyone would willingly do so much for someone. 'At least' was an understatement – the detective had done more than he could ever ask.

It made leaving without a word that much harder.

America was his time to recover. Everyone in Japan expected things of All Might; how many hours a day he could dedicate to crime fighting or just being around town when everything was calm. He made a new lifestyle there to suit his new body and needs.

Toshinori did what he could with the hours left for him by OfA, but even he had to know that after a few years his time was coming to an end. It was harder too, without the support of people he really trusted. There was no Gran Torino here, no Naomasa. Not even letters from his mystery fan. Toshinori had forgotten how much he relationships that didn't require keeping secrets about himself.

Unfortunately, hiding on a different continent took even that away. His body kept getting thinner, and with it any remains of his optimism.

The first time that Naomasa calls him, he almost doesn't pick up out of guilt. There were a lot of things he owed his friend though, and really, he didn't think Naomasa would call without a reason. For a moment Toshinori panics – had something happened to Gran Torino? Swiping the screen to answer, he puts the phone up to his ear.

"You're an idiot."

Toshinori didn't even have time to spit out a hello before he was getting insulted. Well, to be honest 'idiot' was much kinder than anything he expected, but still he flinches, waiting for the inevitable lecture.

"Not a word. We didn't hear from you for– for how long? Do Torino and I not deserve to know you're all right at the very least? I had to call in a lot of favors to get this number, Toshinori. Agencies don't just give out the personal information of their heroes, _especially_ when that person doesn't speak English."

There's a heavy sigh, full of frustration, then a much calmer tone from Naomasa when he continues. "How are you, 'Nori?"

The silence is deafening, Toshinori struggling to get out a suitable answer.

"It's different here. I'm different." The low hum in his ear is almost comforting, and getting over the initial shock, Toshinori relaxes into the conversation. He missed this. He missed his friend. It's almost funny how easily they slipped back into routine, going over years worth of happenings of their busy lives spent saving people.

Toshinori felt better afterwards, their talk not limited to that one phone call. He made sure to keep in contact at least once a week. Naomasa even talked him through navigating a video call.

"Only a few hours a day, then?" It was difficult, letting Naomasa see what he'd become. To the detective's credit, there was hardly a pause between when the camera first flickered on and when he started speaking. Toshinori could still tell, though – how could he not after seeing that same expression for months in the hospital? Despite how well Naomasa thought he could hide it, _concern_ still leaked through his poker face at how much smaller and frail Toshinori had become.

"Right. Nobody here knows about this... other form of mine. People tend not to notice unless I'm All Might, or maybe they avoid these looks on purpose." He sulks at the thought.

"And before? I thought you were working more last year." Leave it to Naomasa to notice something like that. Toshinori sighs, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

"My time's getting shorter. I might have to start thinking of passing on OfA. I've even gotten a request from UA asking me to work there... and find someone to train as my successor."

Holding up his phone for a better angle against the light, Toshinori looks over his friend. He wasn't the only one that changed. Naomasa seemed more exhausted than he usually did, his hair growing out a bit longer and his overall appearance slightly more ragged. He isn't focused on the camera, or even some off screen work like Toshinori would have guessed, giving the impression of a glazed-over look lost in thought.

"...If that's the case, you should come home soon. Torino's been grumpier than normal without you, and from here you don't look in high spirits either. A familiar place would do you some good." He gives Toshinori a smile, laughing softly at the sour face the blond makes.

"You just don't want to deal with Torino by yourself anymore."

"Well, that would help too. Should– do you want me to bring him in on the next call? So he can see you before you come back." The camera shakes, Naomasa laying back on his couch with a groan. Yawning, he waits for an answer with his eyes half closed. It makes Toshinori hold tighter to his own phone, heart aching with homesickness. Maybe that was the real reason he'd never kept in touch; getting a taste of home only made him wish for more.

"I haven't decided yet." Toshinori shakes his head, not looking forward to that meeting.

Coming back brought a whole new set of responsibilities. The school, a successor; not to mention everyone was shocked when All Might returned to Japan. He still captured villains on top of all that, pushing his time limit to the edge almost daily. Even with the time restriction he had, people still sent him things. His popularity as All Might never seemed to wane.

Where he used to struggle to keep up, the sea of letters was almost relieving. He had more time than he knew what to do with after OfA would run out for the day (and it always happened early on, thanks to his recklessness) so it gave Toshinori something to do when he was confined to the teacher's lounge.

After lesson planning and grading paperwork was done, he would go box by box of old letters that he missed in the years he was gone. Slowly but surely he made his way through the stacks, until eventually the ones after his return started popping up. One in particular stands out, Toshinori running his hand over the dark red seal with a sense of nostalgia.

* * *

 _All Might,_

 _You came back to Japan. I followed your career in America, all the things that made it on the news anyway. There's so many rumors about how you came back just to become a teacher. You seem happier, now. It's good to see you smiling again._

 _Forever,_

 _Your oldest fan._

* * *

It was the first one he got since leaving the hospital, since leaving Musutafu six years ago. Something about it seems... strange though. Toshinori's fingers press sharply into the paper while his mind tries to decipher the words. Why had his fan written that he was smiling _again_? Even the American news stations dubbed him the 'hero who saves people with a smile', Toshinori making sure that was the one thing that never changed, even through all his struggles. All Might _never_ stopped smiling. Only Toshinori did – with only one person who would have known that.

Old suspicions flare up in his gut – the same one back at the hospital when he saw the quick scratching Naomasa had written down. Who else? Who else but his best friend would know these things? About his insecurities, about his guilt near Nana's death day?

There were too many coincidences. He had to know.

His phone is already out and set to dial Naomasa's number. It had to be over the phone, because they hadn't planned to see one another anytime soon, and for the detective that meant he was swamped with work.

The line rings, and Toshinori realizes he doesn't have a plan. It wasn't something you just _brought up_ in normal conversation. What would he even say? 'So, I think you've been writing me really supportive letters all my hero career. Confirm?'.

"Toshinori? What's up?" Toshinori's heart skips, and again he's happy he called instead of doing this face to face. He was about to lie to Naomasa – well, not _lie_ per say, but he wasn't exactly being truthful in trying to get information out of him in such a roundabout way.

"Do you... think I've changed since I've been back?" The question slips out easier than he would have guessed, but he holds his breath while waiting for an answer. There's a pause on the other line so long that Toshinori almost drops the phone when he checks to make sure Naomasa didn't hang up accidentally.

"You, ah– how do I put this? You look like you gained a family."

A family. Was that Naomasa's way of saying 'happy'? Toshinori clears his throat, feeling the blood build up uncomfortably. Once again he didn't get the answer he was looking for (though he wasn't sure what he wanted out of all this). He already had a family though, so it was more accurate to say it got _bigger_. Toshinori decides to keep that thought to himself.

"It's something you deserve, too... needed?" Naomasa continues, with some form of hesitation. "After everything that happened, you understand what I'm trying to say I hope. Torino never went away, but the both of you avoided one another for the longest time. There was a time you tried to avoid me too."

He laughs, and Toshinori fiddles with the hem of his shirt. It wasn't as if he liked 'avoiding' everyone. It was all he knew how to do at the time; running away until things made sense again, not letting anyone see how bad things had become. Especially Naomasa.

"Still, it's nice seeing you there with them. Maybe you're more suited to teaching than I thought." The slight teasing has Toshinori rolling his eyes.

"Are you saying I'm happier?"

"I would say that, yes." Before he can press for more, Naomasa is distracted by urgent voices in the background. With a quick apology, he says has to go – work to do, as always. Toshinori listens to the click when he hangs up and stands there with the phone to his ear still, processing the conversation.

Another failure. How many times would he keep asking about this, he wondered. Obviously Naomasa was focused on other things, and not writing to Toshinori in secret. There was something wrong with him, maybe, for wanting it to be his best friend. The thought of it makes his pulse race, a strange thrill sending shivers down his spine.

He was always close to Naomasa, so why did he need this on top of everything else?

Before putting his phone away, Toshinori sends a text asking if Naomasa was free to visit later. He should probably apologize for the weird line of questioning, if it was even noticeable. Naomasa's reply is quick with a simple 'okay' and a time he'd be off; Toshinori sighs, sitting back in his chair.

The door to the teacher's lounge opens up, some of his coworkers filtering in with the class changeover. Mic slides into the chair beside him, pointing out the mass of letters with interest.

"You read all these? I tried once, but it got to be too much. Now I just have a letter segment on the radio show once a month."

"Ah, Yamada-kun. With the extra time I thought I might as well. Do you... have people whose write to you more than once? That you recognize?" Toshinori had never tried asking another pro hero before, and now was as good of a time as any.

"Yeah, I have listeners that call in a lot. I've even met some of them. Why, you got one that's bothering you? Never thought All Might would be plagued by stalkers– you know, the whole smash thing." Cocking his head to the side, Mic eyes some of the letters that were still strewn on the desk. He reaches for one, jumping when Toshinori slaps his hands over the pile.

" _No_ , that's not it at all... hahaa..! I was just curious." Sliding the papers off the desk and into the box they came in, Toshinori laughs nervously. "How was it meeting your fans? Were they what you expected?"

"Can't really say expected. Some were weird and intense. It's nice when they're cute." Mic doesn't seem too concerned about the odd behavior, waving his arms around with a flair as he speaks.

"C-cute?" Toshinori can feel the blood leak out of his mouth, hand quickly moving up to wipe it away. The descriptor makes him blush, his mind bringing up his best friend of all people. He needed to stop thinking about this.

Mic cracks a grin, shrugging nonchalantly. More teachers are joining their little group, so the topic moves on to their students. Toshinori has never been so relieved. It feels like forever before the day ends and he can go home, changing out of his flashy suit and heading towards Naomasa's apartment.

He'd been texted the address back at the school. Wanting the extra time to get rid of his nerves (and after that conversation, there were plenty of them), Toshinori decides to walk to his destination. It wasn't so far that he needed transportation, but anyone other than a pro hero with nowhere else to go might have balked at the distance.

The moment Toshinori steps inside Naomasa's apartment, the detective is already shaking his head in apology. There were some things he'd forgotten at work – things he needed to do _more_ work at home – so he needed to pick some papers up before they, well, did whatever Toshinori was here for.

Pushing him inside, Naomasa offhandedly says to make himself at home, promising he'd be back half an hour at most. Slipping on his coat, Naomasa runs out of the apartment, letting the door clammer shut in his rush.

Toshinori looks around the apartment, unsure of what to do with himself now that he was alone. It was a different place than the one his friend used to rent; not bigger in size it seemed, but in a less sketchy area. At least he didn't have to worry that Naomasa was going to get stabbed just for being in uniform anymore. Considering he now had the time, Toshinori decides to give himself a tour.

The entryway leads straight into the living room, the space filled with trinkets from various towns around Japan. Naomasa must have traveled a lot more in the police force, because he knew him too well to assume anything was from vacation. There was even a box of wasanbon candies in the middle of the table, more of a touch of decoration than to eat. On a shelf underneath the TV, Toshinori laughs when he spots a set of Star Wars DVDs – that was definitely worthy of teasing later.

Moving on to the kitchen he's not surprised that everything is spotless. Not from cleaning, but rather disuse. There's only a rice cooker and a water heater on the counter, and peeking in the fridge Toshinori is dismayed to find there are more convenient store meals inside than actual ingredients.

Making a note to scold Naomasa later, he moves on to a half opened door down the hall. Flipping on the lights, Toshinori finds himself in the bedroom. A quick glance around and he picks out a few pictures on the side table, some of Naomasa and a few of his friends in their police uniforms, then one of them together.

He picks up the second photo, remembering that day fondly. Toshinori'd taken Naomasa to a baseball game, the two of them sitting on the wrong side of the stadium; a pair of Tigers fans smack dab in the middle of the opposing team. Nobody breathed a word to them, even dressed up in their rival's jerseys. The grumpy face of the man who took their picture was still clear as day.

Maybe they could go again one day, if Naomasa wasn't intent on working himself into an early grave. Toshinori sets the picture down, not wanting to intrude on his friend's privacy for too much longer. Just as he's turning to leave, something catches his eye on a small set of shelves, sitting innocently on top of a pile of books.

A stack of envelopes, slightly larger than the normal kind and manilla in color. Toshinori practically trips on his way over, heart stopping when he spots the stamp and wax kit next to it. The seal wasn't depicting Naomasa's family name, so why did he have this? Hands shaking, he flips through the stack, afraid to speak in case it caused him to wake up from this surreal dream.

Buried at the bottom is a fully done up letter, more worn than the others and crinkled where it had been open and shut multiple times. _This_. This was his chance to get the answers he was searching for. Carefully picking it up, Toshinori opens the worn envelope, chewing on his lip when he sees the letter inside.

* * *

 _Toshinori,_

 _'All Might', I looked up what that meant in English and it fits you well. I don't think you ever noticed, but you've been my hero for a long time now. I wanted to tell you how much it meant to me, how every one of your real smiles warmed my heart. I never could get the words out. It was easier when I was a nameless fan and I thought maybe you would never read it._

 _Even then I couldn't tell you everything. How beautiful I think you are, how kind and thoughtful. When you got hurt I struggled to keep it hidden, the feelings I had... still have, Toshinori. I wanted you to understand why I needed you to keep going, even though I could tell how selfish it sounded. I love you. I love you more than a simple friend should._

 _A friend wouldn't see the change of color in a room when you visit. Wouldn't think of you the way I do, with certain shades of blue reminding me of your eyes or remembering your hair when the sun hits at a just the right time. Friends don't have to fight the urge to ask you to stay before you leave for the day, or wish they could kiss you when you laugh._

 _You are so busy with other things, though, and I understand. It's enough to have your friendship, to continue supporting you with all I have. You don't need these feelings of mine, so I'll keep them here in this letter. It's easier, knowing it's here and getting it out of my system. The other ones where I'm just a fan, I think you need those more._

 _Forever,_

 _Naomasa_

* * *

Mouth dry, he coughs and tries to catch his breath. Despite the letter being addressed to him, a sense of guilt washes over Toshinori. Of course, _that_ feeling was far overshadowed with the giddy bliss bubbling up in his chest. Naomasa was – _is_? – in love with him. Reading it on paper, seeing it with his own eyes... so much of their past together started to make sense. Not just Naomasa's actions either.

There's a scrabbling at the door, the sound of a key turning in the latch. The familiar lighthearted voice of his best friend calls out with no worries, calm and even like any other day. I'm back, he says, before telling a story about the silly confusion at the office. Footsteps come down the hall, Naomasa's eyes clouded in confusion when he pushes the door to his bedroom open with a soft 'Toshinori?'

Drinking in the scene, he blinks. Toshinori's face, the unmailed letter in his hands. It takes a good three seconds for him to understand, but when he does, Naomasa wants to disappear.

"Ah..." It comes out more of a breath than a word, Naomasa shrugging helplessly, a timid smile and crinkled brows accompanying it to the point he looks apologetic.

"Ah." Toshinori repeats, unable to think of something substantial to say.

"You weren't supposed to read that one."

Casting his dark eyes to the floor, Naomasa remains quiet. There's nothing inside him. Not embarrassment, not fear, he just feels empty, waiting for the inevitable words to come out of Toshinori's mouth. Except, he doesn't want to hear it.

Turning on his heel, Naomasa exits the room quickly, intending to leave. It didn't matter that it was his apartment, he just needed to grab his coat and keys to get _away_.

There's only the sound of paper crinkling, the letter drifting to an unknown location when it slips from Toshinori's fingers, then the soft thunk of the heavier envelope. He finds himself moving forward, his feet shuffling toward the other man and his hands grabbing at his shoulders, trapping him against the hallway wall. "Naomasa."

 _Don't leave_.

He can't look up at Toshinori, the clarity in his voice at the way he says his name is far too intense. The only thing he can focus on is the way he's being touched, large hands keeping him still. There's no way to run. Toshinori tries again, the quality in his voice almost begging now. "Naomasa, is this true? My oldest fan...that was you the whole time?"

The nickname catches his attention, and Naomasa glances upward through his lashes, still not wanting to look at him fully. Having Toshinori hover over him like this was too much.

"It was. Sorry if you were expecting something different."

"No I- I had my suspicions for a while, but you never..." Toshinori swallows, wondering how to confess that for the past few months he'd been dropping hints and questions to find out if it was Naomasa; and how badly he was hoping it was him. "How long?"

"How long I've loved you?" The question makes Toshinori blush. "That's a cruel question, 'Nori. Everything about this is cruel."

Naomasa's expression is still strangely calm, only the tiredness in his eyes showing anything was amiss. The same tired smile he's had since seeing the letter, and a snippet of the exhaustion he'd been hiding along with those feelings.

"It's not supposed to be," Toshinori begins, dropping the uncomfortably tight hold on Naomasa's shoulders. "Just wanted to know how long I've... how long ago I should have told you."

His fingers wind their way through Naomasa's hair, the dark strands soft and inviting. He can feel the way the smaller man leans into his touch, eyes closed and breath catching as he waits for what Toshinori has to say.

"That I feel the same."

Naomasa flinches under him, and Toshinori sucks in a sharp breath. He leans in closer, hand sliding down to cup his cheek gently. Naomasa never liked it much when people touched him, especially the ones that spoke without thinking. After all this time together, Toshinori had always felt proud to know he was allowed small displays of affection; a hand on his back, touching his wrist, or even hugging. Toshinori had always been the one that Naomasa trusted enough to let him that close.

This, however. This wasn't a small gesture. It wasn't thoughtless either.

Toshinori tries again, his thumb smoothing out Naomasa's brow so the man opens his eyes. _Look at me_ , his expression pleads. _Trust what I'm about to say_.

"You've been there for me this whole time. Not just as... not as only you, but with the letters that I thought were from a stranger. And as dense as I am about my own feelings, they've always been there. Thinking about you, teasing or holding on longer than necessary. You are... so patient with me, Nao. Even after I left and– after I changed. It's kind of hard not to fall for that."

The words come out slowly, Toshinori's face leaning in closer as he speaks. Before he loses confidence, his lips brush against Naomasa's. A kiss that barely counted as a kiss. At this distance he can see the dusting of pink rising on Naomasa's cheeks, and letting his fingers brush over the extra warmth it brings, Toshinori smiles at how cute it is.

"I, uh..." He whispers, breath ghosting across the other's face. "I'm kind of in love with you."

"Oh." Naomasa blinks, waiting for the uncomfortable sensation of a lie. When it doesn't come, the color on his face deepens to an intense red. " _Oh_." Putting a hand over the one still holding his shoulder, Naomasa shifts in place. Toshinori hadn't moved yet, waiting for something more substantial in reply

Mumbling out a few words, Naomasa gives him a shy smile.

"W-what?" Toshinori almost chokes, turning a dark shade of pink. Reaching up, Naomasa pushes forward onto his toes to return the kiss. It's softer this time, more real. They still only touch briefly, a second or two before breaking away.

"I'm kind of in love with you, too."

Toshinori can't help but wrap his arms around Naomasa, bringing him close and hugging him tightly. The way his heart pounds is almost painful. It's the good kind of pain, though; the kind that tells him that he's alive.

"Toshi?" Naomasa's voice is muffled, being squished against the other man's chest. "Not that this isn't nice... but didn't you come here for a reason?"

Face buried in Naomasa's hair, he breathes in the comforting scent, laughing loudly. He doesn't know what's next, he didn't plan that far. His questions were already answered, so–

"I saw your dvd collection... should we watch a movie?"


	7. Finding Them Asleep Prompt

I'm adding a bunch of short prompts I wrote when I had an RP/ask blog running. Enjoy!

* * *

It's late when Naomasa returns home from work, another long night stuck at the office trying to make a breakthrough on a tough case. It took even longer to make it back to the apartment, early snowfall covering enough of the roads to be cautious; but not enough to require street sweepers to be sent out.

Shaking off the chill from his hat and coat, Naomasa hangs his outerwear in the front closet, then quietly makes his way to the bedroom. A large lumpy figure on the couch distracts him, the steady breaths and rise and fall of Toshinori's chest somehow more warming than the cozy temperature the thermostat is set to.

"You waited for me?" Naomasa slips his fingers through Toshinori's bangs, brushing aside the pieces hiding his face. The man stirs from his touch, mumbling out a welcome home in a sleep-laden whisper. Toshinori's eyes remain closed even as he leans up his face for a kiss. Naomasa breaks into a loving smile, lips brushing his expectant husband's own.

"Come on," he says softly, breath tickling Toshinori's nose. "Let's get to bed where you'll sleep better."


	8. Babbling Kisses Prompt

As a quirk, 'befuddling' doesn't sound that incapacitating. It's not something you'd see belonging to a pro hero, but it's perfect for when a villain wants to escape.

"Sunovabich." Detective Tsukauchi stumbles instantly, having given chase to the villain when they decided to literally slap him in the face. He blinks twice, head filling up with a fog not unlike being drunk.

The other officers catch up, surprised to see Tsukauchi swaying and looking around in confusion. Sansa is already in action, fishing for the man's phone and flipping through the contacts until he gets to 'All Might'. It picks up at the first ring.

"Tsu, you never call during–" Sansa cuts him off, giving their location and a short description of Tsukauchi's symptoms. There's a brief silence, then All Might answers with an "I'll be right there."

It doesn't take too long for the pro hero to make his way to the scene, but by that time Tsukauchi is giggling loudly at his coworker's attempts to get him to describe the villain. Everyone looks relieved when they catch sight of All Might, gently prodding their detective toward the towering man. It's short-lived, however, when Naomasa realizes who is there to pick him up.

"ALLL MIGHTT." Toshinori just counted himself lucky he decided to stick with his hero name. "HEY, hey, loookit you? You're gorgeous! Like, allllll the time, not just now."

His All Might smile becomes strained, not trusting Naomasa to hold his secret for much longer under the influence of… this. Sighing, he scoops up Tsukauchi in his arms, nodding to the other officers.

"Thank you, I'll take him home for now until he gets better."

Or at least, that's what All Might _wanted_ to say, and he would have, before the detective interrupts him with a rather loud kiss. He'll have to thank whoever was in charge of training the police force later, because every single one of them stayed silent, looking away despite the shock so clear on their faces.

"I love you." Naomasa presses himself closer, nuzzling into Toshinori's arm. "I love you! I love you, love you, lovyulovyoulveylovou…."

Toshinori leaves as quickly as possible, the blush on his cheeks rising at an alarming rate. Luckily, this would stay out of the media, but Naomasa wouldn't hear the end of this when he goes back to work.


	9. Drunken Calls Prompt

Nobody told him that all the drinks aside from water were spiked. Naomasa takes off his jacket even outside the police force's rented building, his coworkers celebrating loudly at their version of an office Christmas party. What it really was – a rented out bar that someone's family member owned, drinking, mock fighting, and shenanigans.

Clothed in only a sweater and breathing out puffs of warm air, Naomasa sways slightly, fumbling through his pockets. A cigarette sounded good right now, but his lighter was nowhere to be found. Instead, his phone slips into his palm.

The phone is ringing before he knows it, pressed to his ear as his body slumps against the outside of the bar for comfort. As always, the line connects quickly.

"Tsu? What's up?" Toshinori's voice is soft and curious, with a hint of apprehension. He never calls without reason; or at least, not without a work reason. Naomasa's heart picks up its pace when his friend uses his nickname. Even though they've been through years of friendship, Toshinori still maintained a high level of respect between them. Between everyone, really. Naomasa never heard him call anyone by their first name.

"I… I dunno?" He laughs, the alcohol dulling his thoughts. Why _did_ he call? "I just felt like talking to you, I guess."

Toshinori stays quiet enough that Naomasa can hear music playing in the background, as well as a quieter version of what his coworkers were doing back in the bar. "Hold on, let me… let me get outside, okay Tsu?"

Naomasa finds himself nodding as if Toshinori could see it. He catches muffled wishes of 'happy holidays, All Might!' and 'Merry Christmas!' while he waits, and the rustle of movement when Toshinori puts the phone back to his ear.

"There we go – ah, still there?" His tone is clearer now, and more focused. Naomasa hums his response.

"Don't stay out too long, you'll get cold." Even tipsy, he worries for the hero. There's a hearty laughter, one that goes on long enough for Naomasa to pout. "Hey, 'Nori. I just want you safe, cause I…"

The front door opens, an officer poking their head out with a grin. "Get back inside Tsukauchi! You're missing all the fun."

The interruption makes Naomasa jump, and drop his train of thought. He turns to nod, pointing at his call. The officer bows with a quick apology and retreats back inside.

It's good they're not talking face to face. Naomasa is crinkled and a strange shade of pink, not all of it from the alcohol. He holds the phone tightly, waiting for an answer. He can't see how wide Toshinori's eyes have gotten, or how he has to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from coughing in embarrassment. Neither of them are sure how the sentence was supposed to end.

"Oh…" The pause is soon forgotten, Naomasa breathing out heavily enough to see the condensation float up and disappear in the cold air. "It's snowing here, Toshi."

The flurry of falling snow looks magical in the low light, coming into view from where the stars end in the sky. "Can you see it?" He asks gently.

A sharp intake of breath makes them feel closer, the distance between them gone. Naomasa's head pushes back into the bricks to watch the flakes land silently, wishing it was Toshinori that he leaned against instead. Unbeknownst to him, Toshinori tightens his hand around his cell, wishing for his friend's warmth rather than the cold plastic. They share the same sky, though, and for now that's enough.

"Yeah, I can."


	10. Owch, Cuts Prompt

Naomasa pulls his hand away sharply, hissing. There were more stings than he realized, peroxide making them bubble up so Toshinori can see where to check again for more shards of glass. He reaches for Naomasa, holding his wrist tightly.

"Don't move, Tsu, seriously." He speaks softly, gently to match his task. "This is the least damaged area… the rest of it'll be more painful."

Turning his hand over and running a thumb over the marred skin, Toshinori presses a kiss to Naomasa's palm. "This part's done, are you ready?"

Shaking his head, the smaller man grimaces. He was already pale, so much so that the normal light blush that would have followed the kiss went unnoticed. Naomasa reaches over the kitchen table with his free hand, sliding a pair of shears across the wood with enough force to stop just shy of where Toshinori was sitting.

"I liked this shirt," he grumbles, trying to focus on the quiet way Toshinori laughs instead of fabric pulling shards of glass deeper into his skin. The scissors cut through easily, and in moments the t shirt is in three pieces, one large piece falling away to the floor, and the other two cut from where his right side sustained most of the damage. Naomasa frowns at how tattered it is.

A child's quirk blossomed when they were out grocery shopping, the young girl's cry shattering every glass item in the store. Thanks to the villain alliance, people were easier to spook, and their panic got out of hand. The both of them leapt into action when it happened, but it was Naomasa that grabbed the child before she got pushed into the wreckage of the storefront window.

"I'll get you a new one, so don't pout." Toshinori frowns at how much of the glass remained, even after coming home. They both slipped away in the confusion, Naomasa having slid two feet across the floor, the thin shirt he was wearing on his day off did nothing to protect him. It wasn't a villain, so there was no reason for them to get involved.

Picking up the wastebasket, Toshinori collects the various shards, hushing Naomasa when he tries to pull away.

"Hey now, c'mere. I know you've been through worse." His hands slide around Naomasa's good side, resting on the curve of his back for comfort. Dark eyes blink down at him, Naomasa having to stand while Toshinori worked.

"I don't like the _prickly_ feeling." He holds on to Toshinori's arm, puffing out his bottom lip in hopes that the man would take pity on him. The hand at his back brings him closer so that Toshinori can lean his head into the middle of Naomasa's bare chest. He murmurs kisses into his skin, then glances up through his lashes to watch for any sign of pain.

"Better?" His smile grows when Naomasa gets stuttery, looking away with embarrassment. He snaps back with a glare when Toshinori pricks another glass sliver from his side.

"Hey!"

Toshinori chuckles, the rumble in his chest deep and soothing. With another kiss to apologize, he decides on a new pattern of care – sure it would take longer, but he always did like flustering Naomasa with kisses, and if it helped…


	11. Double Date? Prompt

Toshi, you know this really isn't necessary?" Naomasa sighs, resigned to observing how a man of Toshinori's height can crouch behind the low bushes lining the sidewalk.

"Shhhh, they'll hear you!" With another sigh, Naomasa watches the normal people going about their day, two boys in particular walking leisurely along the path. The air around them gives off a mix of nerves and excitement, the green haired one of the two flitting about more than the other. Their shoulders touch, and the quieter boy smiles shyly at a conversation neither of the elder men can make out.

They'd been following them – Izuku and Shouto – ever since the pair left the Midoriya household. Naomasa tried to stop Toshinori from 'suddenly' showing up unannounced, but obviously that did no good.

Inko was ecstatic about the polite young man who asked her son out on this date. She had no worries, merely wishing them a pleasant time out. Toshinori was… a more worrying type of parent.

The moment the kids stepped out (with talk of getting some ice cream before a walk and some dinner), Toshinori got it in his head to follow them. After sharing a knowing look between Inko and himself, Naomasa went along to make sure the date wouldn't get interrupted.

Which brought them back to the restaurant, where the two young boys just entered. "Todoroki-kun opened the door for Midoriya, that was very sweet."

"Mn. That only evens out the points he got deducted for planning out dessert before a healthy meal." Toshinori peeks over the greenery once more, and once he's sure the teens have been taken to their seats, he sneaks in after them.

"He's on a point system now?" Naomasa rolls his eyes, catching Toshinori by his shirt to slow him down. If they were going to spy, Toshinori needed to learn how to blend in better. It was surprising he could hide his identity as All Might; it was pretty easy to pick him out in a crowd. At least, to Naomasa it was.

Toshinori doesn't answer, instead plopping down a gold card in front of the host and asking to be seated discreetly. They get ushered to a space a few tables away from the boys, Toshinori opening his menu and ducking his head behind it.

Sighing for the third time in the past ten minutes, Naomasa asks for water to drink, glancing past the waiter to see Izuku speaking animatedly. The boy grins throughout his story, while his date nods slowly, interested.

"What exactly do you think is going to happen? If you were really that worried I could have asked a few questions for you." The blond jumps in his seat, surprised.

"That would be too obvious!" He almost seemed offended at the idea, but it quickly gives way to embarrassment. "I just… want to make sure young Midoriya enjoys himself."

Quirking up his lips in a smile, Naomasa taps the back of Toshinori's hand. "Mmhmm, so you aren't worried about your son then?"

"S-son?!" Toshinori chokes and sputters, covering his mouth to keep the blood from spilling onto the table. The ruckus causes a few nearby tables to look over at them with curiosity, Toshinori shrinking even further behind his menu.

Glancing over to the kid's table, Naomasa can tell that one of them noticed their snooping. Shouto seems surprised to recognize the detective, shaking his head vigorously when the other boy tilts his head in question.

"We've been caught." Naomasa says, grabbing for Toshi's hand. Motioning for the waiter, he asks for a table further away. "He can't handle too much excitement, is there anything more private?"

Toshinori tries to protest, but when the staff notices the blood still dripping from his mouth, they usher them to a much quieter section of the restaurant. Naomasa waves lightly to the younger Todoroki, wishing him luck on the date.


	12. Fear of Heights Prompt

Tsukauchi Naomasa is afraid of heights. So when it turns out that All Might is much too big to fit in his car, and they need to get to the scene immediately… well, his face drains when the grinning hero holds out his hand.

It's an interesting sight for the officers on the ground; their detective clinging tightly around All Might's neck, eyes shut and jaw set so he doesn't scream. Once they touch the earth again, Tsukauchi lets go, brushing out the wrinkles in his coat and adjusting his clothes as if he wasn't terrified a few seconds prior. Luckily, the incident doesn't require much of their time, and soon All Might is asking if he's ready to go back.

"N-no, I can get a ride back. The ah, _jumping_ isn't necessary." Tsukauchi tries to wave him off.

"Nonsense! Heights are nothing to be afraid of, and if we keep working together, it's easier if I carry you." All might wraps a large arm around the detective, who instinctively tightens his hold. His 'jumps' feel more like flying, and they gain speed and height with each step.

"I don't think this is such a good idea." Tsukauchi glances down fearfully at the slanted rooftop they've stopped on, one side is covered by the building's continuing height, the other open to the streets below. He clings to All Might, arms squeezing around the man's torso, his breathing getting quicker the dizzier he becomes. "Don't let go."

"I'd never let you fall. You just… need something to distract you." Despite his soothing voice, Tsukauchi can feel All Might trying to put a bit of distance between them. Tsukauchi fumbles for something to lean on, his back hitting the brick wall of what must be the fifteenth or sixteenth story.

"Nothing's going to distract me from splattering on the g–" His rambling is cut short by a pair of lips crashing against his. He's frozen in place, eyes wide and staring. All Might's kiss is light, and he smiles against Tsukauchi's mouth before giving him another kiss, another feather light touch. It seems to bring Tsukauchi back into reality, and with a tiny whimper, he kisses the hero back.

Emboldened by the acceptance, All Might pushes him flush against the bricks, causing Tsukauchi to gasp. Suddenly the kiss is fervor'd, tongue exploring the depths of his mouth. For a moment, he forgets how high they are, hands tugging at All Might's hero suit to bring him closer. He likes how warm his lips are. Reluctantly, All Might pulls away, both men panting heavily.

"I uh… think you're cute," All Might murmurs, as if that would explain everything away.

"Oh." Tsukauchi wets his lips, thinking. He looks up at the taller man, curiously pleased at the flush on his cheeks. "I… could use more of your distractions…"

It took a few more trips before Tsukauchi got over his fear.


	13. Kiss on the Neck Prompt

It takes all his energy to not collapse the moment he gets home. Bed is the only thing on his mind, but the smell of food wafting from the kitchen distracts him long enough to forget his weariness. Shrugging off his coat, Naomasa hangs his things on the hook in the front room. Work shoes get changed into slippers, and he shuffles toward the sound of a hummed romantic tune.

Before he can open his mouth, Toshinori is turning to him with a wide smile. "There you are Nao… figured it would be a late night again so I pushed back dinner."

Glancing at his watch, Naomasa flinches at the time. 2245. This was a night he was supposed to be home at a decent hour, and not staying at the office until the sun rose the next day. He failed at that, apparently, Gran Torino pulling him back with a possible lead to the VA. A lead that didn't even pan out for them.

Looking back up to Toshinori, with his apron tied off center and his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, Naomasa's heart melts.

"You're too good for me."

Toshinori rolls his eyes, laughing good naturedly. "Do you _want_ me to be mad at you?" Shaking his head, he turns back to his cooking.

Crossing the space of the kitchen, Naomasa wraps his arms around Toshinori from behind, hands resting on his stomach. He stays there for a while, face nuzzled in the middle of his husband's wide back. He's content just like this, not wanting to let go.

"Yes, actually. You have every right to be." His words are muffled, but the point still gets across. Toshinori hums in disapproval, the sound rumbling in his body and through to Naomasa.

"You and Torino are working hard for me. How could I ask for more than that?" The embrace around Toshinori tightens.

"Because you can. You're allowed to ask everything and more out of me." Not everything could be done as asked, but he would gladly try. Not just because Toshinori had once done the same for others, but because that was what Naomasa was there for. It wasn't too much to ask for one night home, together.

Shifting up on his toes, Naomasa presses a kiss to the back of Toshinori's neck. "So is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" It wasn't meant to be suggestive. It could be something as simple as staying up together, sharing what remained of the night.

Naomasa gets a flick to the head and one stern order, Toshinori's eyes sparkling with amusement: "Eat."


	14. Love Quirk Prompt

"I love you."

Naomasa freezes, the hands on his cheeks radiating a gentle warmth. The words were something he'd only ever expected to hear in daydreams and wishful thinking on his part – but for it to come out _this_ way was more distressing than anything.

Pushing aside the way his heart skipped a beat, Naomasa focuses on the glazed over, hazy look in Toshinori's eyes. Covering the backs of Toshinori's hands with his palms and squeezing lightly with concern, he asks, "Are you hurt?"

Naomasa was still winded from the chase; when a petty crime that even a powered-down Toshinori could handle just unfolded right in front of them, the retired hero ran straight after the villain.

Well, less of a villain and more a run of the mill purse snatcher, but it didn't change the fact that his friend took off even after the very stern warning not to.

Between the young age of the thief and Toshinori's long legs, the detective was wheezing just trying to keep up with them. It's also why he wasn't hit when the burst of bright pink smoke billowed around the corner, revealing a dazed Toshinori in the middle of the sidewalk.

Immediately Naomasa had rushed over to check for injuries, his quickened breath catching in his throat at the confession. "Toshi, you… is this from the smoke?" Both the dilated pupils and the pink tinge in his cheeks were more than obvious. Whatever the smoke did, it was affecting Toshinori's thoughts."You were hit by a quirk, so you don't know what you're saying."

Half of him wasn't sure if the words were for the man in front of him or for his own benefit. It was hard to tell. Naomasa noticed right away, of course, that what his friend said was laced in truth. But there were many ways of loving, and Toshinori was just that kind of person.

He cared – loved – everyone. So Naomasa had no doubts Toshinori loved him… it just wasn't the same way he felt back.

"Nons'nse, I know _exactly_ what I'm saying!" The slight slur in his words is cause for concern, as is the way he wobbles side to side. Leaning forward, his face presses close with a wide grin, and if Naomasa didn't know him, he would have said the blond was drunk. "How long have we known each other? Of course I'd love you!"

Closing his eyes, Toshinori tries to decrease the space between them, his mouth parted slightly for a kiss.

"T–!?" The detective jerks backward in shock… was it some sort of love quirk? Multiple thoughts are racing in his head just as fast as his heart thudded in his chest. Toshinori had just tried to kiss him.

It wasn't _him_ , though. It wasn't as if he would do it in a normal state.

"Hey, let's – ah– get out of public view, alright? People must think you're drunk." He pulls Toshinori to his feet, acutely aware of the people staring in their direction. Some people were pulling out their phones, glaring at Naomasa with suspicion. A teetering man in the middle of the day, leaning heavily on his obviously sober friend; Naomasa brightens to a surprising shade of pink at the implication.

He pulls out his badge and tries his best to bow with the full weight of Toshinori against his back. Seeing the words "police" relaxes most of them, and phones start to disappear back into purses and pockets.

"We should hurry to the car…" Picking up the pace, Naomasa drags the blond behind him, who whines and stumbles with a pouty look on his face. Fixing his gaze at where his car is parked in front of them, they hurry on.

"You're so worried for nothing. It's cute."

"It's not _nothing_." Naomasa vaguely wonders if he would be this way to everyone he knew, or it was because they interacted with one another first.

"Always so serious. Did you know your eyebrows wrinkle up when you get that way?"

"I'm sure it does." Maybe it was better that he was there, and it wasn't a random citizen that became the object of Toshinori's affections.

It stings, thinking that his best friend would say something like that to a stranger. Though, he supposes it would actually be worse if it was someone they knew well.

"Tsu~ you aren't listening to me. I love you."

"I know, Toshi." Pulling his hat down over his eyes, Naomsasa changes his grip on Toshinori's wrist to lead them even faster toward the car. He can hear the warble of the low voice behind him, a disappointed whine from being ignored.

"No, you _don't_. I. am. in. love. with. you." Toshinori yanks him to a halt just two feet away from the safety of his vehicle, and away from curious glances of passerby.

Naomasa drops his hold with a flinch, hesitant. There was nothing though, no pain or feeling of unease that accompanied Toshinori's words. A part of him gets lightheaded and hopeful.

"In love? _Love_." His body shakes with the vibrations from his heart. It's loud and noticeable from his stomach to his fingertips, the thudding of it in his ears. Sneaking a peek at Toshinori's face reveals he's still flushed and lackadaisical, the smile on his face with almost a sleepy quality to it. "With me?"

"Yes! Like I've-been-wanting-to-kiss-you-for-a-few-years-now love!" His face shakes up and down with enthusiasm, and Toshinori chuckles at the way Naomasa's eyes widen and snap to the ground with embarrassment.

"Oh." His words are quiet, disappearing in the breath of disbelief he lets out. It wasn't a lie, because he would know if it were. Naomasa wonders how long this quirk was supposed to last, because he would love to ask Toshinori again once the effects were gone.


	15. Massage Prompt

Let's get you lying down, I can probably fix it."

All Might can withstand vicious pummeling from the strongest villains, but apparently he can't handle sleeping at an odd angle. One practice punch and an awful sounding crack had him wincing on the floor in an instant.

Naomasa tries to help the hero into a back room of the gym, any kind of space where he can rest. The most he can manage is a slow hobble; All Might's quarter ton of wight being pressed heavily into Naomasa's side is nearly impossible to walk with.

You never realize how _big_ the number one hero is until he's right on top of you. He'd never want to be on the receiving end of one of his US-inspired smashes. They eventually find a space big enough to accommodate All Might's height, and with a groan he lays face first on the floor.

"What do I do now? Shit, this is embarrassing." His voice is somewhat muffled with his head facing away from Naomasa, but it's easy to tell why he's so troubled. The symbol of peace wasn't supposed to fall down over such a stupid reason.

"It's fine. You're human, unless you forgot. Just sit still." Rolling his eyes, Naomasa steps over the large man, kneeling down at first but then deciding it's better to just sit on his lower back. His hands slide down the middle of All Might's spine, testing the tension. With all his weight, Naomasa pushes up and down – another, smaller pop sounds this time – and All Might hisses, then sighs in relief.

"Hey now, don't move yet. Doing it twice might not work."

Sitting back upright once more, Naomasa starts again, hands kneading into tender muscles. The same thought flashes across his mind; All Might is much larger than he gives the man credit for. There's nothing soft about him.

Fingers working their way over each inch of stocky frame, All Might continues to hum as his pains melt away. Naomasa begins to turn pink with every new muscle group he touches, the low baritone vibrating through All Might's chest until he can feel it under his hands. Nao's gym clothes suddenly feel too thin, acutely aware of how his thighs fit over the slimmest part of All Might's waist. How much he still needs to spread his legs to sit comfortably…

"Ah–!" He chokes and stands quickly, mortified at where his thoughts were starting to go. This was _All Might_. His friend, for god's sake. "You should be good now… I'll find some ice for you, just in case."

He feels pretty terrible, leaving the man laying there still half hurt and fairly confused. But there was no way Naomasa was going to linger for much longer, not when the blood was rushing to his head and to… other… places. He'd apologize for his quick exit later.


	16. Love Realization Prompt

It's not a new thing, sneaking glances at Toshinori and feeling the soft pull in his heart. Through all the years he's known the man; as a teen, as All Might, and even now as the slim and lithe version of him, Naomasa has thought Toshinori as beautiful.

'Crush' never crossed his mind, so of course 'love' didn't either. They've known one another for so long, Naomasa'd just sort of thought that's how you considered friends. He never questioned why those same thoughts didn't float up and consume him when it came to any of the officers he worked with.

It was close to Christmas, that he noticed. A holiday for couples; the way they shopped and held hands, bodies standing close to share their heat with rosy cheeks and laughter. The melody of a Christmas song floated out of the shops, Toshinori humming along and arms full of presents meant for his students.

Naomasa followed behind, watching the snowfall melt into Toshi's blonde hair, the colorful twinkling lights practically making him glow. He turns back, grinning widely to point out a sweet potato stand down the road, the steam puffing upward and beckoning. A hot treat was exactly what they needed.

He's the one that pays, laughing off Toshinori's frantic shuffling for his wallet without dropping any of the packages. Naomasa also unwraps the foil for him, lifting up the potato for Toshinori to take. Instead, the taller man leans down, opening his mouth wide to take a bite.

His dark eyes are sparkling, cheeks puffed out like a child instead of the retired hero he is – and Naomasa stops in his tracks, the world suddenly spinning with his epiphany. His eyes grow wide, breath catching in the cold December air.

He was in love.


	17. Kiss after Kiss Prompt

"I'm not… drunk you know."

The tipsy flush always hit him before the alcohol ever did. Toshinori should have known that it wasn't a lie, but no one ever believed it when Naomasa said the alcohol wasn't affecting him. Insisting he was sober usually never helped things, but tonight wasn't a usual sort of situation.

His heart stung with nerves, its every beat privately encouraging him forward. Toshinori _must_ think he was beyond tipsy despite his insistence, what with the way he was straddling his lap, sitting facing toward him and head lifted just enough to blink up at the blond affectionately.

"Tsu…" Toshinori didn't have a drop of alcohol in his system, so when he whispers Naomasa's name, face brushed so prettily in pink… it makes him hope that maybe their feelings are mutual. Because behind his confidence and unwavering sense of justice, Naomasa is afraid of rejection.

Loving the world's greatest hero was always a difficult concept. It was hard enough that Toshinori never expressed much interest in either sex, and Naomasa didn't know how to navigate falling for his best friend of over a decade. But adding the prying eyes of the media, and the _fame_ that went with it… when you could have anyone, why would you pick a small town officer?

"I really do like you." With eyes half closed, and his breath glossing over Toshinori's face, Naomasa hesitates. His hands rest against the other's chest, fingers pressing in the slight give of muscle to stop them from trembling. "Ro..mantically, I mean."

Glancing up, he shifts in place, legs tensing up against Toshinori's waist as if waiting to be pushed away. Only wide, curious eyes stare back at him. The taller man leans closer, his mouth brushing so close that it brings the ghostly sensation of them touching.

"Romantically," he repeats in a whisper, and the breathy sound makes the detective tingle with goosebumps. "Like a kiss?"

The words graze his lips, promising more if either man were brave enough to close the distance between them. Perhaps it was where they were; hidden in a back corner of an already private bar, Toshinori's hero colleagues busy with their own conversations and interests in the main room.

"Yes, like a kiss." Naomasa focuses on the shape and color of Toshinori's lips, thoughts of how soft they look blossoming and taking hold of his judgement. "Is that okay?"

He watches with interest at the way Toshinori's lashes flutter in embarrassment before averting his gaze to a random spot on the wall. Sneaking a quick look back into Naomasa's dark eyes, his blush deepens. Toshinori never moves closer, but his head tilts to the right, lips parted and inviting.

"I think– I'd like that."

It's all Naomasa needs, finally leaning in until their bodies touch, his hands sweeping across Toshinori's cheeks to brace him. Scarcely a second passes before their first kiss ends and another sweet graze of lips begins.

His heart is trilling lightly against his chest, and in a daze Naomasa finds himself unable to deepen the kiss. Each one melts into more soft brushing until he finally pulls away, light headed.

"I…" Naomasa tries to begin, but he never finishes the thought. A pair of strong arms loop around his waist, pulling him back into slow kisses; this time far less hesitant than before.


	18. Noir AU Prompt

This story is from my AU where Naomasa is more of a bad cop who resorts to any means of getting his arrest. I actually really, REALLY like this story.

* * *

This always happens. Naomasa always finds him self at this point, knuckles bruised and bloodstained with some low end villain that crosses his path. They always start it, so his retaliation was technically justified.

Fighting was easy when you were an officer in the wrong part of town, and Naomasa never made an effort to diffuse the situation. The low class villains always took him to be a simple target, which made them bolder and more dangerous.

Only a danger to themselves, of course.

This time he pushed his luck further than he'd meant to – yes, Naomasa ended up the victor, his fighting style quick, effective, and deadly against idiots who refused to take a 'quirkless' man seriously. There were somewhere around seven or eight of them though, and even he had to take a few hits.

Claws and sharp teeth littered wounds across his body before the final one fell. Heart racing in his chest, the post high of the fight courses through his veins, dripping down the bites on his shoulder and the scratches on his chest.

Stumbling back to his car, Naomasa doesn't bother with going back to his apartment; driving to Toshinori's place instead. One short knock and the door opens quickly, Toshinori frantically pulling the roughed up detective inside. He'd expected him after a cryptic text, but didn't realize there would be so many bruises.

"Again, Tsu?" Toshinori fumbles with the buttons of his friend's shirt, guiding him to the couch where a first aid kit lays open on the table just off to the side. His fingers brush against the tooth marks, wincing at the spacing and depth.

Naomasa sighs at the gentle touch; as much as he enjoyed the fighting, he needed the aftercare like it was an addiction. Someone like Toshinori, who knew the type of person he was and still could care for him – That sort of kindness, that type of _good_ was something he craved.

Watching the blond's face furrow in concentration, Naomasa half closes his eyes, caught up in just how sweet Toshinori looks. Pretty. Soft. Good. As All Might he was the perfect hero, but even Naomasa could pretend to be a hero. Toshinori just… _was_ one.

Not everyone would fuss and wrap his wounds so carefully, taking precaution so there would be nearly no pain. Because the truth was, Naomasa deserved pain. It was why he sought it out.

"…'Nori." Naomasa reaches up, the fire still burning in his veins. Leftovers from the dark alley brawl. His body could stay bruised, because what he really needed was Toshinori, and not physical first aid.

"Fix me?" He asks, expression soft and pleading. This was the only real time he was gentle like he wanted to be. The first kiss has a hesitancy that Naomasa can never recreate out side of this moment. His lips, his body; everything of him begging for Toshinori to transfer some of that goodness that shone so brightly.

Then, it grows into need, a selfish desire to take it for his own. Naomasa's mouth and tongue _takes_ at each and every breath, coveting every moan that slips out. Toshinori's fingers dig into his shoulders, and with a shudder Naomasa gasps on the edge of pleasure and pain.

He needs more. More closeness, more possessive touches. Hips grinding upward into Toshinori's warmth, Naomasa breathes his feelings against the man's neck. Rough kisses press into every dip and curve, traveling down to where his collarbone begins.

"I love you, 'Nori." The words whisper hotly against Toshinori's skin. He shivers at the implication, his own kisses buried against Naomasa's head and in his hair, given freely in place of an answer.

Naomasa never asks, never presses for more than that. He can't.

Being so aware that he doesn't deserve Toshinori, he can't make it real by asking. It's easier to pretend for a few moments that the man he loves and needs is _his_ , even if he doesn't believe it for a second.

Toshinori would never lie to him, so asking " _Do you love me too?_ " would be the worst truth to hear. Instead he sucks on the other's bottom lip until the section is puffy and pink, Toshinori moaning lightly at the action.

"Do you hate me?" The question breathes into his mouth, Naomasa's tongue sweeping in to taste him. It's still a sharp edge that will one day find it's way into his heart, but it's a question he can ask.

His hands weave their way into Toshinori's hair, bringing him close so Naomasa can feel more of him.

"I don't hate you, Tsu…" Toshinori's words and kisses heal the aches, a temporary salve against the hate Naomasa has for himself. It erases the blood and bruising, washing it all away. "I can never hate you."

The way Toshinori's voice softens tempts Naomasa into asking if he really did love him back. Enveloping himself into Toshinori's body, his warmth, and his scent, the kisses lose their sweetness.

Naomasa exposes his neck and shoulders, ghosting his fingers across the bruises starting to form there. His eyes say more than his voice could, asking Toshinori to erase each mark by replacing it with his own.

"Fix me, Toshi," He asks yet again. "You're the only one who can."


	19. Touching Noses Prompt

The sunlight decides to stream through the window at the perfect angle, hitting Naomasa's eyes as if to annoy him awake. It works.

With a groan, he moves his hand to block the brightness, turning over until he's face to face with Toshinori. Memories flood back into his head, events of last night and how they wound up in bed – here – together. His heart sets off like a shot, thudding so loudly he was sure it would wake the sleeping man up.

Their noses touch, he's laying so close, and Naomasa nervously watches Toshinori's deep, gentle breathing. He can feel the warm air tickling his nose, and it reminds him of when Toshi's breath was hotter, ghosting down the curve of his back.

Nao flushes, an embarrassingly high pitched whine slipping out with the memory.

"Mm…. good morning." Toshinori's eyes blink open, still hazy with sleep. At this distance, the color of them glows a brilliant blue, and Naomasa can't help but feel enchanted.

He breathes his own soft 'hey', time slowing down now that he was sharing it with the man next to him. Toshinori loops an arm around Naomasa's body, dragging him close. Sweet kisses dance across his face, the barest hint of laughter in Toshinori's chest.

The sun decides it wants to be kinder now, lighting up his tall, wispy figure until he shines so brightly Naomasa has to duck even closer; they press together from their foreheads to the tips of their noses now. It's not a bad way to begin the day.


	20. Spice - Do That Again

Toshinori arcs his back, hoping for more friction against the sheets. His breath comes in short gasps thanks to the crooking of Naomasa's fingers inside him.

"An…" He whimpers, having been sufficiently stretched about fifteen minutes ago. It was all teasing by now, three fingers slick with lubrication and sliding all the way to the knuckles. His hands are tied above him, palm to palm, the soft satin of Naomasa's necktie taut around his wrists.

Just when he thinks Naomasa might be done, a wet tongue sneaks its way up the base of his cock, swirling about the head before Naomasa sucks lightly, teasingly. Apparently the man had other plans tonight.

"F-fuck." He was already painfully hard, and having Naomasa's lips around him had his hips shaking as he tries not to stutter forward. Then Naomasa twists his fingers in a way that makes Toshinori sees stars.

" _A– -aa–again, d-do that again…_ "

Naomasa's breath puffs out with laughter, tickling him. The deep sex-rough sound makes his heart skip a beat, Toshinori groaning helplessly when Naomasa resumes his attention, this time Taking Toshinori deep enough to hit the back of his throat.

"I think – I-" Toshinori trails off into a high pitched noise, legs bracing around Naomasa's shoulders. The detective hums, feeling the final tell-tale pulse and swallowing when Toshinori cums hard.

There's too much to take, and Naomasa lets the last of the thick substance drip from his mouth and down Toshinori's still-hard cock so he can breathe. Toshinori trembles underneath him, wriggling when Naomasa pokes his tongue around the still sensitive flesh, intent on cleaning the rest of his mess.

"Aha… stop that it – _hah_ – it tickles!" Toshinori pouts, not succeeding in a proper puppy dog look with the heavy flush across his face and chest. Naomasa still obliges, crawling up to lay on Toshinori and pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead.

"Feeling good?" He asks, undoing the the knots around Toshinori's wrists.

"Mmhmm." Toshinori wraps his newly freed arms around Naomasa, holding him close and snuggling into his chest. He doesn't feel like moving, content to fall asleep with their bodies tangled up together just as they were.


	21. Spice - Parting Thighs

His slim, sharp curves are poison; intoxicating and dangerous. Naomasa can never stop after such teasing, deft fingers scratching down his chest, Toshinori's teeth nipping at his earlobe. His hand slides up the never ending length of leg, stopping at Toshinori's thighs and giving them a possessive squeeze.

"I want you." It's more heat than words, the low growl of Naomasa's voice sending vibrations down Toshinori's spine. A searching pair of hands force his legs apart, and Toshinori turns crimson when a short, excited whimper slips out.

"Don't…stop…" He pleads, breathing growing even more shallow the further up Naomasa touches. Toshinori slides his fingers up the back of Naomasa's head, caching his short hairs and pulling him close. Their first kiss is hungry, the taste of honey and smoke mixing when they touch lips… as is the next, and each one that follows.

The swell of arousal sits flush against heated skin, and Naomasa grins. It's difficult to tell who needs this more, whose heart is racing faster. Settling over Toshinori's lap, unable to keep his hands from wandering to more intimate touching, he intends to prove his eager lust tonight.


	22. Spice - More

Naomasa's legs shake from keeping them spread out the way they are, back arched, ass up, and face pressed to the bed. It feels like he's been in this position forever, but the damp spot underneath him would suggest he'd rather not move.

Biting down on his knuckles, a low, guttural noise escapes his throat. Another push of Toshinori's fingers bring out a short gasp from Naomasa, and Toshinori can't help but lick his lips at the sound.

At the station, everyone had nothing but professional respect for the detective. It was well deserved, of course, so not many of them could imagine the strict and hard working Tsukauchi on all fours and moaning.

A streak of possessiveness hits him, and Toshinori decides it's just fine that they never would. Just watching Naomasa trying to grind back against his hand has Toshinori hard and aching.

Still, he keeps up his leisurely pace. While Naomasa was pleasantly thick, there was still a sizable difference between them. Lavishing attention on the smaller man was one way to fix that. Ignoring the sexy noises and the beading of sweat collecting on Naomasa's back, Toshinori continues his stretching. Each twist of his fingers brings Naomasa closer to the edge.

"To…shi, I can't–" Dark eyes peek back at him, heavy and glazed over with arousal. "You f-feel too good."

Well, _fuck_.

A rush of heat travels down Toshinori's body, and he growls low in his chest. Holding Naomasa's hips in place, he withdraws his fingers and the long, drawn out whine he gets in protest makes his cock twitch.

Dribbling more lube onto himself, Toshinori slides against Naomasa, prodding him gently. The touch sends sparks up Naomasa's spine, a deep moan slipping out past his lips.

"Tell me if I need to stop, alright?" Toshinori pushes forward, breath hitching at the tight warmth around him. He stops a few inches in, pausing to check for signs of discomfort.

"Don't stop." Naomasa grasps at the sheets, desperate. "Mm… m–more~"

"Mmn. 'Masa, you can't _say_ things lik-"

Toshinori hisses when Naomasa rolls back onto him, each thrust sinking him further, inch by inch. The sensation of it makes Toshinori's mind goes white.

"S-so, so good 'Masa." Whispering his praises, he begins to move against the detective, hand reaching underneath Naomasa's body to stroke him. Finding him so hard and dripping sends another wave of arousal through Toshinori. Picking up the pace, he thinks about how badly he needs to watch Naomasa get off.

His free hand presses into soft hips, nails biting into skin just enough to cause him to tremble. Choking back a sob, Naomasa spills cum into Toshinori's hand, shaking with how hard orgasm hits him.

Toshinori doesn't stop his movements, though he does slow down his pace. Heavy breathing and sweat slicked hair aside, Naomasa wiggles back against Toshinori's large frame.

"Keep going…. _more_ …"


	23. Spice - Teasing

On a lazy Sunday, when neither of them have to get up for once, Naomasa still wakes up early. Rolling over in bed, he scoots closer to the center of the mattress, positioning his head next to Toshinori's neck. Even after waiting a beat, the man doesn't move. Pouting, Naomasa presses his lips into the slender curve, the action making Toshinrori groan and turn away until his back is facing him.

"Hey, 'Nori." His voice comes out rough from sleep, and after wincing at the raspiness he tries again. "Wake up."

Toshinori wasn't a morning person, and usually took a good while to wake up. Most mornings Naomasa was up, showered, and fully coffee'd-and-dressed before the other was out of bed. But it was boring to wait, and Naomasa was in a teasing mood.

Sneaking a hand up Toshinori's baggy shirt, his fingers run across the sides of his thin frame. It makes Toshi hum, opening his eyes briefly before shutting them again with a stubborn grunt, still preferring sleep.

"…'Nori…" Naomasa tries again, rolling the syllables out to match his wandering touch. He traces over the faded lines of his scar, grinning when he feels Toshinori shiver under his fingertips. His other arm wedges through the space between Toshi and the bed so he can pull the tired man closer until their bodies are flush, back to chest.

"Idon'twannagetup." The words are jumbled, barely decipherable so doused with the comfort of slumber. Pulling up the thin cotton shirt, Naomasa exposes Toshi's bare chest, hand drifting to Toshinori's right side and sliding over his nipple.

The noise that comes out of Toshinori's mouth, accompanied by the gorgeous pink flush after he makes it… Naomasa is already jumping on this newfound weakness.

The thin, lean muscles of his chest feel good in Naomasa's hands, and he takes the time to scratch down the dip of his chest before teasing his way back around the sensitive bits of peachy pink.

"Punishment for being lazy." Naomasa's breath hot in his ear, Toshinori whines, arching his back and grinding his ass into the other man's hips for relief. He's rewarded with a thick growing heat pressing into the curve of his bottom, which only makes him groan more.

Taking his fingers back and wetting the tips with his tongue, Naomasa kisses and bites into Toshinori's neck, pinching his nipple hard enough to drag out a gasp.

"Shi– Fuck, Nao…"

There's a short snickering that gets muffled into his neck, and Toshinori can _hear_ the mischief in Naomasa's voice when he says, "That's what I'm trying to do."


	24. Owch, Stabbing Prompt

Today was a beautiful day. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, stretching out far beyond the tops of the buildings at the edge of the horizon. There wasn't a cloud in sight to mar that pristine scene above him, the sunlight shining warmly against Naomasa's face. Really, there was only one thing he could complain about, and that was the hunting knife buried four inches into his chest.

"…ar me, 'Masa? It's going to be alright, I promise." A familiar voice calls out to him. Eyes flitting to his left, Naomasa frowns. He didn't expect his friend to be so pale, and it's kind of hard to focus with how distant Toshinori sounds.

"What 'ppned?" Strangely enough, he doesn't feel any pain. Nothing registers even as he looks down at the damage, a thin stream of blood trickling across his skin. Only his breathing feels ragged, which made sense with a blade piercing his lung. "This's annoying."

Naomasa reaches for the polished wood handle, intent on removing the offending weapon. Toshinori panics when he does, his hands cupping around Naomasa's to keep him still.

"Do you _want_ to bleed out? Wait for the ambulance!"

"Hey… hey, it's not as. Bad as it looks?" He tries to shift up, because Toshinori wasn't supposed to look like that. Worried. For him. Then the pain hits, the delay finally crashing over him like a wave, blood pooling into his airway and drowning him from the inside.

Wheezy breaths are all Naomasa can get out. It's terrifying. Grasping at Toshinori's fingers, he trembles at how quickly his thoughts slip away from him. Why did this happen? They were walking down the street, just like any other day.

He'd wanted to buy another pack of cigarettes from the convenience store, and Toshinori had joked it would kill him one day. Hopefully, Toshinori wasn't feeling guilty about his choice of words. Then… what? A glaring break in his memories gives Naomasa no good answer.

Gathering up his strength, he drags Toshinori's hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across the man's knuckles. Ignoring the crowd of people around them, Naomasa focuses on his tired friend. Toshinori was trying his best to hold back his tears, the stress of why help hadn't come yet getting to him.

"Sorry… sorry. If I still had OfA I could take you to the hospital myself." His eyes begged for Naomasa to stay awake, and his lips moved in shapes that resembled words. No sound came out – that, or Naomasa could no longer hear them.

Darkness closes in, spotting his vision. It wasn't so bad, having Toshinori be the last thing he sees. Closing his eyes, everything dulls to one long dreamless sleep. No sound, no pain. Just rest.

 _Beep_.

 _Beep_.

A part of Naomasa preferred the quiet. The steady hum around him was soothing, but every so often he would hear that-

 _Beep_.

Yes, that. His body feels too heavy to move, even opening his eyes seemed like a hassle. It would be nicer to sleep again, to go back to wherever he was before. He might have too, but the sound of shuffling is too loud to ignore. A feeling of warmth presses next to him, then a low concerned voice at his ear.

"…'Masa, 'Masa… wake up."


	25. Stealing Prompt

You don't just _steal_ things from a police officer.

There was no other explanation other than theft, because Naomasa was meticulous with his coats, gloves, and really anything that he wore daily. The first thing he did at home and work was hang up his things so they never moved from their designated spots.

Recently, though, one of his coats would disappear for a few days and return like nothing happened. It was most likely someone he knew, and it was an older coat, sure. So it wasn't like he was without one, but still – you don't steal from an officer; especially one like Tsukauchi Naomasa.

The streets are fairly crowded at this time of day, people shopping and generally enjoying the sunny but brisk winter air. Naomasa has his head down, buried in his phone. His purposeful walk has the crowd parting slightly to let him through, and his eyes scan the GPS signal like a hawk.

He'd left work as soon as he could when his phone went off, notifying him that the thief was on the move. A few days ago Naomasa stuck a tracker underneath the collar (and if anyone knew about it they'd probably tell him that was going overboard) to find out who was taking – and returning – his coat.

The thief wasn't going very quickly, spending time in various shops downtown without a care in the world. By the time he got there it was easy to catch up. Naomasa smirks, ready to confront the mystery borrower and give them an earful and a half of lectures.

Ten meters away, then seven, then five. He glances from his phone to the street, taking note that the tiny blip had just made its way into the bakery on his right. Alright then. Naomasa posts outside the door, back to the storefront window as he waits.

In a few minutes, the signal brushes past him, and when it does he looks up to see a familiar coat; Naomasa grabs at the belt in the back, stopping the thief in their – his – tracks.

" _Toshinori_?"

His tall blond friend jumps in surprise, his face going through a cycle of emotion. For a second he smiles at the coincidence of them meeting, but it soon gives way to a sheepish flush when he realizes what Naomasa is staring at.

"Sorry, ah– I was borrowing it for just a little. It was getting cold, and, well."

"Why didn't you just ask? I've been…" Now it's Naomasa's turn to feel embarrassed, having to explain he spent the day tracking his coat like one of his investigations. "I've been going overboard again," he finally says with a sigh.

"Did you detective me?" There's an amused sparkle in his eyes, knowing exactly how his friend would think. Naomasa laughs, nodding.

"Look - if you like that coat so much, keep it. It looks nice. I _am_ substituting it as your next birthday present though, so don't get pouty later."


End file.
